


Six Different Ways

by WaxAgent



Series: Lovesong [4]
Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Best Friends, Blow Jobs, Brief Racist Language, Camping, Eddie and Richie have a PDA PROBLEM, Explicit Consent, F/M, Fluff, Fools in Love, Grinding, Homophobic Language, M/M, Moderate to heavy BAMF!eddie, Multi, No Underage Sex, Polyamory, Roadtrip Fic, Underage Drinking, all of the losers are over 18, shipping characters not actors, some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-10
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2019-01-31 08:20:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 27,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12678057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaxAgent/pseuds/WaxAgent
Summary: It was a short walk across a long country for Eddie Kaspbrak to lose all of his friends to their separate futures. Good thing there's plenty to do along the way.





	1. This Is The Day

Richie was already up and out of bed by the time that Eddie woke on most mornings, and today was no exception. It was an early Monday morning in July, and even the sun hadn’t fully risen yet. The air was hazy and stagnant, and Eddie frowned, feeling sticky and too hot already. Birds were chirping faintly outside of Richie’s window, propped fully open, and the curtains hung still with the utter lack of breeze. Eddie was sleepy, still, and he allowed himself the time to languish in the delicious soreness that had settled at the base of his spine; a reminder of last night, of almost every single night since he had come to live with Richie several weeks ago. It was a damn good way to wake up, if you asked Eddie.

Richie’s room was a complete warzone. Clothes, papers, and records were thrown around the cramped space carelessly; Eddie swore to Richie, over and over, that he would NOT be the one to pick up this fucking mess. Beyond the chaos there were four tidy cardboard boxes stacked by the door, labeled in Eddie’s neat handwriting. Eddie’s two backpacks were there, too, and a beat up rolling suitcase. Richie’s guitar was propped against the wall behind the boxes, a tiny pocket amp tucked beside it. A smile tugged at Eddie’s lips and he sat up, running both hands back again through his wavy brown hair. All of _their_ possessions, all ready to go. It was such a sweet image that he could even ignore the mess. Mostly.

“Baby, baby, baby,” Richie crooned softly. He edged into his room, a cup of coffee in one hand and a glass of orange juice in the other. “Vitamin C for my Special K,” He handed the juice off to Eddie and sipped his coffee. 

“Thanks, Rich,” Eddie yawned. “G’morning.”

“You too, sleepyhead,” Richie grinned, pushing his glasses up on his nose; he had packed his precious contacts last night into Eddie’s bag, beside both of their wallets. His curls were tugged off of his face by a sweatband. “Ready to rock?”

“No,” Eddie said, delicately sipping his juice. “I need to shower first, I’m disgusting. I feel like I slept in a bed of sweat.”

Richie shrugged. “I like you in your natural flavor; sweaty, ready Eddie.”

“Fucking gross, Richie.” 

Richie set his coffee down and slid into the bed, grinning. “I like you in your morning OJ flavor too,” he dipped his head down to kiss Eddie, gently taking the glass from his hands and setting it on the floor.

“Mmn,” Eddie kissed him back. “Why’d you even bring me a glass if you were just gonna take it away and maul me?”

“I’m a shameless citrus tease,” Richie smirked and pulled Eddie into his lap. He was practically vibrating with energy, hands roving up Eddie’s thighs and over his shoulders, excited and restless. “I’ve been up for hours.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, I let you sleep. You’re a cranky asshole when I wake you up too early.” Since Eddie had left his mom three weeks ago, he had spent almost every single instant with Richie. It had been nearly seamless; they just worked together, like two gears cut exactly to fit. There were speedbumps, of course; Eddie _hated_ to be woken up. Richie was a blanket hog, and he kicked in his sleep. They were learning each other in ways that they’d never known they could, and it was amazing.

“You’re a quick learner, surprising everybody,” Eddie deadpanned and Richie laughed, squeezing Eddie’s bare chest against his own. 

“Oh Eddie,” Richie sighed. He paused, then, like he’d been struck like lightening. “We should fuck,” he said seriously. “Totally. One last time in my bed.”

Eddie flushed. “No, Rich. We don’t have time.”

“I’ll make it fast!”

Eddie snorted. “I’m sure you’re very capable of making if fast,” he swallowed, feeling nervous and jittery. “Before the gang comes, I…I want to try and say goodbye to my mom.” He hadn’t called home in the weeks after he’d left. Sonia hadn’t called the Toziers looking for him, either. 

Richie stilled. “Oh,” he said, softly.

“If we have time! I know we have tons of driving to do today and I don’t wanna put us behind, I mean, I can run up there right now and it won’t take me too long--“

“We have time,” Richie said. He stood, unfolding his long legs, and picked Eddie up with him. “Get that cute little tush in the shower and I’ll find you clothes that aren’t packed too deep.”

Eddie nodded, still frowning. He kissed Richie’s shoulder. “Thanks, babe,” he said softly. “I’ll be quick.” 

“Don’t thank me yet,” Richie said, smiling impishly. “They might be my clothes.”

* * *

Eddie ended up walking down the street in salmon shorts that went to his mid-thigh, a large Metallica t-shirt, and flip flops. Richie walked beside him, holding his hand lightly, in jeans that were cut off at the knees and a tight Nirvana t-shirt. His glasses rested on the bridge of his nose and his hair was pulled back into a very curly ponytail. They were silent, even Richie; that alone lent itself to such a pervasive unreality that Eddie found himself wondering if he was even really awake. He imagined himself asleep still, wrapped up in Richie’s bed, dreaming, waiting for Richie to smile out his name and a good morning and hand him a glass of juice. 

When they finally got to the Kaspbrak house, Eddie’s chest was so tight and his breath was coming so thinly through his lips that he felt like he was going to explode. Richie stopped and pulled him in for a hug. He pressed his lips to Eddie’s hair. 

“Breathe, Eds,” he whispered. Eddie wheezed, pushing back and groping with nervous fingers for his inhaler in his front pocket. He shook it, put it to his lips and puffed, almost gagging at the bitter taste of the medicine as it washed over the back of his tongue. Richie watched him with a frown. “You haven’t needed that in three weeks.” Eddie glared at him, and Richie fell silent, shrugging. He took his cigarettes out of his back pocket and tapped one out, paused, and tucked it behind his ear instead. “Not the time,” he said, an apologetic quirk on his lips.

“You’re learning about timing?” Eddie asked morosely. Richie rubbed his shoulder. “Alright. Might as well fucking do this.”

“Want me in there or out here?” Richie asked, and Eddie hesitated. He walked up his front steps.

“In,” he said softly. “In, please.” Richie was right behind him in a heartbeat and Eddie took a deep breath. He pressed his house key into the lock. “Hang on.” He tried to turn the key, frowning, but it wouldn’t budge. “She…” he gaped, turning to Richie. “She changed the locks.”

“What?”

“We’ve lived here for over ten years and she hasn’t changed anything but as soon as I leave, she changes the locks?!”

“Eddie-“ 

“Hey!” Eddie pounded on the door with a closed first. “Mom! I know you’re home, your car is here! _Mom_!”

“Hard to get,” Richie nodded. “I’ve always _loved_ when your mom plays hard to get.”

“Shut your fucking Trashmouth,” Eddie hissed, knocking on the door again. “Mom!”

“Hey,” Richie said, stepping back off of the front steps. “Look, babe.” He was pointing up, a frown pinching the space in between his eyebrows.

Eddie stepped back after him and looked up to where Richie pointed. Sonia Kaspbrak was watching them from her bedroom window, curlers in, glasses on, her face an impressive mask of apathy. 

“She’s just…watching you,” Richie said. “Maybe I should go, and you guys can talk?”

“No,” Eddie said firmly. “There’s no conversation about my future that doesn’t include a place for you.” 

Richie blinked, taken aback. “Oh,” he said. “Hey. I love you, Eds.”

“Love you too,” Eddie said curtly. He made eye contact with his mother. “She’s goading me. Fucking hell. After everything, she can’t even come down and talk to me like an adult? So _childish_.”

“Childish,” Richie mused. He tugged Eddie’s arm. “Two can play at that game. Wanna make her jealous?”

“What?” 

“Turn towards me.”

Eddie turned away from the house and felt Richie’s fingers brush his jaw, shortly followed by the sweet feeling of Richie’s lips covering his own. It wasn’t an obscene kiss, or a filthy one. It was sweet and chaste, with Richie’s thumbs rubbing circles into Eddie’s cheeks. Eddie sighed. Unbidden, he felt the tension drain out of his shoulders and his back. He brought his hands up over Richie’s and brought Richie’s fingers down to his chest, over his heart. 

Richie hummed against his lips, breaking away and straightening up. He was still holding both of Eddie’s hands and his eyes were fixed on them for a moment, a lingering softness cast over his features. He looked up at the window, then, over Eddie’s head. 

“HEY!” Richie bellowed suddenly, and Eddie winced at the volume. “I’m gonna take care of your son! I’m gonna keep him safe, and I’m gonna make him happy, because I fucking LOVE Edward Kaspbrak, and he’s never going to cry over me! So, uh…thanks for giving birth to him!” Richie smirked, continuing after a quick pause. “I guess that this means that things aren’t going to work out for us, Mrs. K! I’ll miss you--“

“Beep beep!” Eddie hissed, his heart racing. “Richie--“

“Shush,” Richie said, much softer. “If she’s not going to come down, she should know that, at least.” He squeezed Eddie’s hands. “You should know it, too.”

Eddie nodded, his throat too stuck to speak. He kissed Richie again, and again, and again. When he finally did turn around to look back up at his mother, she was gone from the window; the fluttering drapes were the only indication that anybody had ever stood there at all.

* * *

“You and Rich are making this the easiest on me by far,” Ben said. He took a box from Eddie and loaded in into the trailer attached to his silver sedan. His grey t-shirt was damp around the collar and he rubbed at his new beard, thoughtful. “You guys have virtually zero stuff. Bill and Stan are making Mike’s life a hell, I guess. Between the two of them they have like twenty five, thirty boxes.”

“All Eddie and I really need is each other,” Richie sang, another box in his hands. He passed it up to Ben, who set it into the half full U-Haul. “You have all of your stuff from home, Haystack?”

“Ayuh,” Ben grinned, wiping sweat off of his brow. He jumped off of the back of the trailer. “Bev’s is all packed up too. She’s already at Bill’s helping them load their truck.”

“Meet at Bill’s to co-ordinate maps and synchronize watches,” Richie grinned. “LOVE it. Ya’ll ready--”

“You boys heading out?” Went Tozier called to them. He had a mug of coffee in one hand and a newspaper underneath his arm. He strolled down the driveway to his car like he owned the world. “Where to first?”

“Not sure, Mr. Tozier,” Ben said.

“Thank you again for your hospitality these last few weeks,” Eddie said, smiling. Wentworth looked at him, perplexed. 

“Come again, Eddie?”

“Um, for letting me stay. Thank you.”

“That’s right!” Went pushed up his glasses, chuckling to himself. “You were here, weren’t you?” He set his things down on the top of his car and walked over to them, shaking Eddie’s hand, then Ben’s. “Bye, Richard.”

“Bye, Dad,” Richie said.

“Did you say goodbye to your mother?”

“Yep.”

“Okay,” Went nodded. “And your college- Wichita?”

“Seattle.”

“Call your mother.”

“Yeah. When I get a phone line hooked up.”

“Sure, no real rush,” Went waved Richie’s statement off. Aside from Richie’s pink painted fingernails, Eddie noticed suddenly that they had the exact same hands. Went seemed to catch sight of Richie’s hands at the same time as Eddie. “Take care, son. And take off that nail polish, it makes you look like a homo.”

“You too,” Richie said hollowly. Eddie had never heard him say so little in his life. They waved to Went as he got into his car and drove off, and Richie wiped his hands on his jeans. Eddie realized with a pang that he hadn’t shaken his father’s hand. “Ready to roll out, boys?”

“I’m gonna use the restroom before before we go,” Eddie said. Richie smirked at him, not missing a bit.

“Are you trying to turn me on, Kaspbrak?”

“Shut up, Richie!”

“Please take him with you,” Ben said seriously and Richie sighed, flinging his arms around Ben’s shoulders. 

“Benny, baby, where did all of our love go?!”

“Two seconds!” Eddie assured them, jogging into Richie’s house. He set his flip flops by the door and waved to Richie’s mom as he passed her in the kitchen. “Hi, Mrs. Tozier.”

“Eddie,” she said. Eddie stopped and looked at her obligingly. Her raven hair was pulled back into a banana clip and she was drinking from a steaming cup of coffee. Eddie’s stomach clenched when he saw the half empty bottle of vodka at her elbow on the kitchen counter. “You all ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Eddie said. Maggie Tozier nodded. She was spaced out and heavily present in her seat all at once, and the act of her speaking had an obtuse effect on Eddie. Her wrists looked painfully thin, and her long fingers circled the rim of her mug absently.

“Mm. You’re a good boy, Eddie,” she said, her voice vague. 

Eddie was shocked. He had seen Maggie every day that for the last three weeks and she’d barely acknowledged him the entire time. She drank from morning until night without fail, whether by herself or with friends, and the only time she and Richie ever spoke during that whole time was to trade nasty insults over two gin and tonics at dinner the night before; she certainly never had two words to spare for Eddie. “Thank you,” he said to her, unsure.

Maggie nodded, a faraway look in her eyes. “Make sure Richie calls, please. Went will forget. He doesn’t care about him, you know, they never connected. Sometimes, I thought it would have been easier, if Richie was…a better child. An _easier_ child,” she laughed humorlessly. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”

“That’s a horrible thing to say,” Eddie said softly, his eyes downcast.

“What?”

“Richie…he was never a bad kid. And he isn’t a bad man, his energy doesn’t make him _bad_ ,” Eddie hesitated. He felt like he was walking a plank. “The way you and his dad treat him…like he’s invisible, like he doesn’t exist. He dies over it when he thinks we aren’t looking. All the time.”

Maggie surprised Eddie with a soft snort. “He’s made of stronger shit than that.”

“He isn’t invincible, he’s not a robot. He’s your _son_.”

Maggie just smiled vacantly at Eddie. Her expression was detached in a way that made him feel terribly uneasy. “Make sure he calls, Eddie, okay?”

“…Sure, Mrs. Tozier.”

“You’re a good boy,” Maggie said again, drinking her spiked coffee. 

Eddie was silent for a long moment. “I’m going to take care of him,” he said. Maggie looked at him, her face soft and angry and sad and, _God_ , Richie looked just like her. “I’m going to make sure he’s okay, and I’ll make him call you, and he’ll be amazing. He’s amazing.”

“You love him,” Maggie said. 

Eddie nodded. “Yeah. I really do.”

Maggie nodded back. “Be good to each other, then.”

“We will,” Eddie said. On impulse, he darted beside the counter and hugged Maggie before his courage could desert him. Startled, she patted his back. “He’ll call you,” Eddie promised. He fled the house, then, red in the cheeks, bathroom forgotten. 

* * *

The group was easily split up into two cars; Ben’s, with Bev, Richie, and Eddie and Mike’s with Stan and Bill. They caravanned it, driving for hours on end before hitting their first destination, deep in Pennsylvania (which was farther than Eddie had ever travelled already, honestly) and nestled in mountains and woods and rivers. They hit a campground, and Mike and Ben get out to negotiate with the man at the parking lot attendant booth. Eddie turned to Richie, who had been sleeping for the last three hours. 

“Rich,” he said softly. Bev was sleeping in the front passenger seat, her sunglasses lopsided and her head pillowed on Ben’s sweatshirt. 

“Mmm,” Richie mumbled, taking off his glasses to rub at his eyes. “Baby?”

“We’re here,” They shared a smile. Eddie savored the rare moment of being more awake than his boyfriend, who was usually bouncing off the walls at every instant, constantly on his toes and alert. Even when he was first waking up in the morning, Richie snapped from zero to sixty with no delay. Right now, though, he was bleary and endearing, blinking, sucking in his bottom lip. He had taken down his hair in the comfortable coolness of Ben’s car and his springy curls were loose around his sleepy, porcelain face. Eddie leaned in closer, close enough to count every one of Richie’s freckles and Richie kissed him, sighing. 

“Didn’t mean to fall asleep,” Richie said, voice soft. “Were you bored?”

Eddie’s heart melted. “No. Tell me you love me,” he murmured against Richie’s lips. 

“I _adore_ you,” Richie whispered, eyes closed. Eddie kissed him again, unbuckling his seatbelt and then Richie’s, moving over to snuggle into his sleepy beau. Richie wrapped his arms around Eddie, kissing him in earnest, sliding his tongue against Eddie’s bottom lip and into his mouth. 

“Mmh,” Eddie moaned softly, letting himself be guided into Richie’s lap. “Love you so much, Richie,” he whispered, running his hands up into Richie’s curls. “There’s nobody I’d rather be here with than you.” His hands moved lower to skate along Richie’s waistband, sliding up underneath his shirt to run over his firm stomach. 

“Yeah?” Richie smiled. “Mmm. Likewise.” He opened his eyes and rubbed his nose against Eddie’s. 

“You should take naps more often,” Eddie said, humming, gliding his hands over Richie’s chest. “So pliant.”

Richie tilted his head back, “Gonna have your wicked way with me while I’m waking up? I’m not against that, you know.”

“I might,” Eddie whispered. “You’d love it, I bet.” He swallowed, feeling bold. “If I…If I fucked you here? In the back seat?” 

“Maybe I would,” Richie looked up at Eddie. “Anyway you want to?”

“I could ride you,” Eddie said, working Richie’s shirt up farther. “That always makes you crazy.”

“I do love that,” Richie sighed. He arched his chest into Eddie’s tentative touches. “You go wild when you’re on top. God. The sight of it, you have no clue the way you look in my lap, bouncing, and I get so fucking _deep_.”

“Richie,” Eddie gasped out. He leaned forward. He slid one hand into Richie’s lap and cupped him lightly, squeezing at Richie’s encouraging groan. “What if they come back?”

“We’ll stop. Or keep going. Who cares?” Richie said softly, and he was kissing Eddie again, slow and deliberate. Eddie arched his back and parted his lips. He brought both of his hands up rubbing his hands through Richie’s curly mop of hair again. Richie whined softly, eyes closed, when Eddie gave his locks a sharp tug.

“I love how much you love that,” Eddie whispered, feeling powerful. “God, you’re putty.”

Richie just looked at him, eyes hazy. “Always am, for you,” He pulled Eddie down, cupping his ass in large hands and rolled his hips up, kissing into Eddie’s resulting gasp. “I want you on my cock, Eddie. Okay?”

Eddie groaned, going pink. “Okay.” He yanked Richie’s hair suddenly and it was Richie’s turn to gasp, his eyelashes fluttering. “You’re so hot, Jesus,” Eddie murmured, kissing Richie’s throat. He sucked against the junction of Richie’s collarbone, listening to Richie’s stuttering gasps like a hymn. 

“Only to you,” Richie grinned, squeezing Eddie. He rocked his hips up again and Eddie moved against him, their friction setting off delectable sparks that arced from in between his legs to his fingertips to his toes. 

“Hey. You are _everything_ to me,” Eddie whispered, feeling sudden, fierce passion welling up in his chest. “Do you know that?” 

Richie looked at Eddie, his expression inscrutable. “Yes,” he said.

“Okay,” Eddie said, running one small hand down to cup Richie’s cheek. Richie leaned into his touch, eyes soft. 

“Ben’s coming back,” Richie whispered, his brows furrowed. He sat up underneath Eddie, wrapping his arms around the smaller man and dropping a kiss against his temple. “I can see him and Mike out the window behind you.” 

“Fuck,” Eddie sighed, burying his heated face against Richie’s chest. 

“I will,” Richie said, rubbing Eddie’s hair. “Believe you me. I mean…you still game?”

Eddie laughed, shoving at Richie’s chest. “Richie. No way.” He pressed himself closer into Richie’s lap while Richie stretched, fixing the other man’s shirt. Richie adjusted himself in his jeans and Eddie tugged the Metallica shirt that he’s wearing a little lower to cover his crotch. 

“Baaaaaabe. They already know we fuck. And besides, who says the show’ll be free? We’ll charge.”

“Yeah,” Eddie nodded, trying to frown. A smile kept twitching at the corner of his lips. “But they’ll get the friends’ discount, so really, what’s the point?”

Richie erupted into peals of laughter, crushing a giggling Eddie to his chest. “Oh my GOD, Eddie, I love you! Hey Bev!” Richie reached into the passenger seat and gently shook her shoulder. She rolled over and looked at them, lowering her sunglasses and rubbing her eyes.

“Yeah, Richie?”

“I love Eddie, you know. Just thought I should inform you.” Beverly gave Richie a long-suffering look. She stretched up and itched her scalp, concealing a wide yawn.

“Thanks, Richie.”

“Sorry, Bev,” Eddie said. He gently slipped a hand over Richie’s mouth; Richie pouted. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“No, it’s fine,” she smiled at Eddie. “We’re here anyway, right? This is it?”

“Looks that way,” Eddie said. “It’s so- Richie. Stop.” He glared at Richie, who had the audacity to look innocent and sweet behind Eddie’s hand.

“What’s he doing?”

“Just opening and closing his mouth, I have no clue. So, Ben was saying while you guys napped, we’re in the Poconos-- _RICHIE_!” Eddie yanked his hand away quickly. “UGH.” A string of saliva connected Richie’s outstretched tongue to Eddie’s spit covered palm. “You’re so disgusting Richie, Jesus!” 

“You shouldn’t try to stifle me,” Richie said. “I’m a free spirit and I need an outlet.” Eddie glared at him, and wiped his hand off on Richie’s t-shirt. Richie grinned and pulled Eddie into a tight hug. “Babe, you insult me deeply. You never complain about my spit when my lips are wrapped around your--“

“Alright,” Bev said loudly. Eddie’s face was bright red and he was shoving at Richie’s chest. The taller man, however, would not be moved. “I think we get the point, Richie, thanks.”

“…when my lips are wrapped around his dick,” Richie finished, a smug smile on his face. “Interrupting people is _rude_ , Beverly. I honestly expected better from you.” Eddie buried his face into his hands, shaking his head. “Hope you got all my spit off your hand first, sweet cheeks.”

Eddie groaned loudly, dropping his maligned hand. “Why? _Why_?”

“Everything all right in here?” Ben asked as he opened the driver’s side door. He climbed back into the car and leaned over the center console to kiss Bev. “Nobody kill each other while I was gone?”

“There’s still time to kill each other while you’re here,” Eddie said, glaring at Richie. Richie wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“The little death, Eddie Spaghetti?”

“Don’t call me that--“ In the front seat, Ben turned the radio up to drown out Eddie and Richie’s squabbling. Bev smiled at him. 

_Thank you_ , she mouthed. She rested her hand on top of his for a moment, on the stick shift.

“Hey,” Richie stuck his curly head up in between them. “You ever think that, when you’re driving a manual car, with a stick shift, you’re really just giving your car a handjob?”

“No,” Ben said. Beside him, Beverly was wracked with hysterical laughter. “No, honestly, I have _never_ thought of that.” 

“I think about stuff like that,” Richie said. He looked back over his shoulder at Eddie, who rolled his eyes. “Maybe you should too, you know, perspective shift.” He tucked his head over the shoulder of the passenger seat, nuzzling his face into Beverly’s hair. She giggled and turned, kissing Richie’s forehead. “Smoke break? We have time for one, Benny?”

“We’ll be there in two seconds,” Ben promised.

“You can light up in here,” Eddie said. He ran his hand up Richie’s side. “Just open the windows.

“No way,” Richie and Beverly said, in unison. 

“Not worth it,” Bev said.

“Not in a closed space with my little asthmatic snuggle boy,” Richie said. Eddie flushed. “We can wait.”

Eddie pulled Richie backwards into the back seat and kissed him softly. Richie sighed, climbing over top of Eddie while the smaller man placed confident hands on his hips. They kissed lightly, Richie’s hand on the side of Eddie’s neck, Eddie’s on Richie’s lower back, unrushed and relaxed. Richie sucked on Eddie’s bottom lip and the smaller man smiled, butting their noses together. 

“So, that’s one way to drive with Richie in silence,” Bev said sweetly. Richie and Eddie looked up; Ben had parked the car and he and Beverly were unbuckling their seatbelts and exiting. 

“You couldn’t resist him either,” Richie said. Eddie grinned underneath him, cheeks pink, hair messy. “LOOK at him, Beverly. Christ.”

“Very handsome,” Bev agreed. She walked out and opened the back door, a pack of cigarettes loose in her hand. “Come on, boys, paradise awaits.”

They were able to bring both vehicles right up to their campsite. Mike and Ben parked carefully, side by side. Everybody unfurled from their respective cars, grunting and stretching. Stan and Bill leaned on each other, Bill flushed all the way to the roots of his hair, and Eddie could only guess what they were getting up to while he was macking on Richie in the back seat of Ben’s car. Mike walked over to the two of them, settling one hand on Bill’s waist while he kissed Stan, slow and sweet. 

Richie, meanwhile, was _ecstatic_ , a wound up ball of energy that had just been allowed to go nuclear. He blitzed through the clearing, ripping his shirt off and whooping like a madman. “The great outdoors!” He bellowed. He darted up to the trio and snatched Stan away from Mike, lifting him up and spinning him wildly. 

“Put me the FUCK down,” Stan yelled, pushing at Richie’s arms. Richie, of course, did no such thing. “Help, Eddie!”

“No way,” Eddie said mildly, leaning on Ben’s car. “Because if he’s not spinning you, he’s spinning me, so. Sorry.”

“Traitor!”

“So,” Bev said, covering up a residual yawn. She sidled up to Eddie and rested her head against his shoulder. Eddie wrapped an arm around her and they watched for a moment as Bill and Mike began to navigate setting up the tent. Ben stood beside them, thoughtful, his clever eyes observing the poles and nails and spikes. He spoke up, and began to direct them gently.

“So,” Eddie agreed, squeezing her. 

“I’m not going to say I was eavesdropping,” Beverly began, her eyes sparkling. “But I definitely heard you two naughty boys in the backseat.”

Eddie flushed from the tips of his ears to his collarbones. “ _Beverly Marsh_ ,” he hissed, shoving at her. She laughed and wrapped Eddie in a tight hug. 

“No, no! I think when Richie told you he wanted you on his dick, just…one of the hottest things I’ve ever heard. Just saying!” Beverly laughed, kissing Eddie full on the mouth. Fuming, Eddie kept his lips in a thin, rigid line. 

“Shut up,” Eddie grunted. “You could have told us you were awake.”

“I didn’t want to interrupt,” Bev said. “It was…precious. The way you talk to each other.” She smiled at Eddie and slid a cigarette into her mouth. 

“Were you…were you watching?” 

“No,” Bev shook her head. “Just listening.” Eddie nodded, cheeks still warm. 

“I wouldn’t mind,” Eddie said. 

“What?”

“The listening,” Eddie said. He smiled coyly at Bev, who stared at him. “Even the watching. Richie!” He yelled suddenly, cupping his hands around his mouth. Bev blinked dizzily behind him, unlit cigarette dangling from her lips. “Put Stan down!!”

“What are you talking about, baby?” Richie yelled back, his face alight. “Stan LOVES this!”

“I have never loved anything less!” Stan cried, kicking out his long, thin legs. Richie twirled him again, unstoppable in the glow of the afternoon sunlight. "And you know it, asshat!!"


	2. Heaven

“Okay, s-so,” Bill said, one of his arms wrapped tight around Mike’s shoulders. It was dusk out, and all of the Losers were crowded around the campfire, shoulder to shoulder, chatting jovially with each other. Eddie was roasting a marshmallow, twirling the puffy white confectionary at the highest point of the flames. “Fuck, marry, kill, Eddie; Richie, Bev, and m-me.”

Eddie hummed and tilted his head back. “Toughie.”

“Toughie is a cute word choice, but wrong!” Richie grinned from his steadfast spot beside Eddie. “Obviously, I’m the answer to all three questions.”

Stan squinted at him. “Even kill?”

Richie looked Stan dead in the eyes. “If I suffocate with Eddie’s dick in my mouth, I’ll be the happiest man on Earth.”

“Definitely kill Richie, then,” Eddie said. He removed his perfectly toasted marshmallow from the fire and blew on it carefully. “I’d fuck Bill, and marry Bev.”

“I’m devastated,” Richie threw the back of his hand against his forehead and Eddie tried to fight down a laugh.

“I’ve actually never been so honored in my life,” Bev grinned around her cigarette. 

“Don’t be so honored,” Eddie smirked, one eyebrow raised. “I’m as gay as a picnic basket. It would have to be a sexless marriage of convenience.”

Bev smiled widely. “I think we can work out some…extra-marital arrangements.”

“You’re a traitor, Bev!” Richie gasped. “I never knew this awful tragedy would come from your direction!”

Bill laughed. “I-I’ll take really good care of Eddie, Rich. In time, he’ll get over your untimely d-death.”

“ _We’ll_ take really good care of Eddie,” Mike said. “Don’t worry.”

“I can’t trust a single one of you mother fuckers, can I?” Richie moaned.

“If it helps,” Eddie said delicately, smiling at his boyfriend. “I wouldn’t be able to get head for ages, you know, after you choke to death on my dick.”

“What a way to go,” Richie sighed dreamily. He put gentle fingers on Eddie’s roasting stick to pull him closer. Eddie went in for a kiss with a sweet, expectant look and Richie dodged, clamping his mouth over Eddie’s expertly roasted marshmallow.

“You total bitch,” Eddie said, affronted. “You no longer get the privilege to die during sex.” 

“Richie! God, isn’t that hot?” Stan said, horrified. Richie nodded vigorously. 

“Cmmn Eds, iffuss one mushmll,” Richie mumbled, spitting around the food in his mouth. 

“You are a disgusting creature,” Eddie said firmly. Richie grabbed his cheeks and leaned in, trying to kiss him with his mouth full. Eddie squeaked and shoved at Richie’s face. “DISGUSTING. CREATURE.”

“Let’s have a moment of silence for the fact that, as gross as you say Richie Tozier is, he still gets action on the regular. From you,” Mike said, holding up his drink. 

“Hear, hear!” Richie shouted, swallowing his pilfered snack. 

“Richie doesn’t know the meaning of ‘moment of silence’,” Ben said. 

“Blah blah, none of you would actually change me, blah,” Richie grinned. “Eddie’s turn now, come on.”

“Okay, Bev,” Eddie grinned. “Fuck, marry, kill; me, Ben, Mike.”

Beverly puffed on her cigarette and answered in two seconds flat. “Fuck Ben, marry Ben, kill Richie.” Ben beamed and cupped Beverly’s smiling face. She took her cigarette out from between her lips and he kissed her tenderly, both of their eyes closed. 

“I know that’s sweet and all, but she killed me and I wasn’t even an option, so…” Richie said loudly. 

“If it helps, I wouldn’t let her actually kill you,” Eddie said innocently. He scooted back and settled onto Richie’s lap, smiling over his shoulder at his boyfriend. “You have a…here,” he licked the tip of his finger and swiped over the corner of Richie’s lips, sticking the digit into his mouth. “Marshmallow.” 

“Thanks, babe,” Richie smiled; his grin faltered when Eddie swirled his tongue around the tip of his finger and sucked it deep into his own mouth until his lips were pressed against his bottom knuckle. “Mmm,” Eddie sighed, pulling his finger out and wiping it onto his shorts. His eyes never left Richie’s. “Tasty.”

“Wait, what-“

“Bev’s turn,” Eddie said. He slid farther back onto Richie’s lap, pressing his back against the taller man’s chest and swinging his feet over the ground. “Go ‘head, Bevvie.”

“Alright, Bill, FMK; Me, Ben, Eddie.”

While Bill thought, Richie leaned forward and whispered in Eddie’s ear. “Move forward a little, baby. You’re crushing my dick.”

“Am I?” Eddie whispered back. “Sorry. Here, I’m gonna get my drink anyway,” Instead of moving off of Richie’s lap as he was certain the other man would expect, Eddie leaned forward; he bent himself practically in half to reach his drink from beside Richie’s foot, arching his lower back and stretching his torso. He heard Richie’s sharp intake of breath behind him as he grabbed his prize and came up, lasciviously slow. “Sorry,” he said innocently, taking a sip of his beer. “Did you still want me to move?” He circled his hips slowly, grinding down onto Richie’s lap and Richie let out a choked gasp, clutching Eddie’s hips. 

“What are you doing?” Richie groaned quietly, his cheeks red. “ _Eddie_.”

“I wanted that marshmallow, you asshole,” Eddie said sweetly. He arched his back again, feeling a wicked sense of satisfaction as Richie’s eyes snapped down to his ass. “I wanted it _so bad_.”

“Jesus _fuck_ ,” Richie hissed. He rocked Eddie’s hips into his pelvis and started guiding him in very slow, shallow motions against the cradle of his hips.

Eddie gently picked Richie’s hands off of his hips and held them lovingly. He kissed over his knuckles and his trembling fingers. “Nope,” he whispered. “Not your call.” 

“Eddie--“

“Rich, hey,” Bill said. Richie looked up, breathing harshly. “Your turn.”

“Uh, sorry, Big Bill,” Richie twitched. His hands were still locked in Eddie’s grip. “Repeat my options?”

“Fuck, marry, kill; Eddie, Mike, Stan?”

“Kill Stan, obviously,” Richie said quickly. Stan flipped him off. “Fuck Mike- _ah_ \- and marry Eddie.”

Eddie looked over his shoulder, surprised. “What?” He stopped the torturous movement of his hips and stared at his boyfriend. 

“I have it on good authority that Mike is a champion in the bedroom,” Richie grinned. His eyes were sparkling. “Apparently he’s a very considerate, giving lover.”

“I don’t know if I’ll be so willing to put out, you know, after you killed my boyfriend,” Mike laughed. Stan grumbled and Mike squeezed his knee affectionately. 

“These are surface issues and we’ll work past them,” Richie said. Eddie was still staring at him. “What?” Richie said gently. He pulled a hand out of Eddie’s grasp and ran his thumb over Eddie’s bottom lip. “Do I have something _else_ on my face?” 

Eddie blushed. “No, idiot, you’re fine.” He climbed off of Richie’s lap and sat beside him, crossing one leg over another. Richie wrapped an arm around his slim shoulders, grinning. 

“Alright, alright, alright,” Richie said. “Ben; Bill, Eddie, and Bev?”

“Do I have to kill anybody?” Ben sighed. “I don’t like that part of the game.”

“It’s just a game,” Beverly smiled at her boyfriend. “So _no_.”

Richie leaned over, whispering in Eddie’s ear. “You’re a little fucking cocktease,” he said. “I should bend you over right here, shouldn’t I?”

Eddie looked at Richie, lashes lowered. “Maybe,” he said softly, meeting Richie’s eyes in a dare. “But you won’t.”

Richie smirked. “I love a challenge.” He kissed Eddie’s cheek.

“We’ll see,” Eddie snuggled into Richie’s embrace, smiling. 

“Why don’t I just marry Bev,” Ben said from beside them. 

“You don’t want to fuck her, too?” Richie asked, seeming genuinely curious. 

Ben blushed. “That’s crass. But yes, we have slept together, if that’s what you’re asking. And yes, we plan on doing it again.” Bev laughed, snorting. 

“You two,” Richie said. “Are the most obvious lovebirds on planet Earth. Just accept it. _Embrace_ it.” Bev rolled her eyes, a blush settling over her pale cheeks, and flipped Richie off. Richie blew her a kiss.

“I’m gonna kill you in every FMK that comes my way now, Richie,” Bev said, grinning. “Get ready. No surprises.”

“That’s really the dream,” Stan said, smirking. Bill laughed softly and tugged on Stan’s curls. 

“Beep, beep, S-Stan,” Bill said.

Richie gasped. “Bill,” he said seriously. “Incoming.” He flung himself over Stan and Eddie, wrapping his arms around Bill and kissing him all over his face. 

“Eddie!” Bill shrieked, laughing. He and Richie fell backwards into Mike, who supported them with both arms, taking his own chance to kiss Bill sweetly while Bill turned his face to avoid Richie’s onslaught. “C-control your boyfriend!” 

Eddie rolled his eyes. “That’s impossible, and you know it.” He sipped his beer and watched Richie torture Bill with affection, and rubbed the back of Richie’s ankle. 

Stan grunted, leaning away from Richie’s long torso spread over his legs. “Can somebody please tell me why this always ends with Richie in my lap?”

* * *

The following morning, Eddie was the first out of his friends to wake up for the first time in his life. The air in the tent was dim and drenched in pre-sunrise blue, humid and still. Richie was breathing softly against the top of his head, curled along the length of his back. Eddie shifted and Richie stirred against him. He sat up, blinking owlishly, squinting down at Eddie. 

“Mmm,” Eddie pulled Richie down again and they met in a soft kiss. “Your hair is a terrible fucking mess,” he whispered, smiling.

“Good morning to you too,” Richie whispered back. He cupped Eddie’s face with both hands and kissed him again. “I think it’s pretty amazing that you’re letting me kiss you before I’ve brushed my teeth.”

“Shut up and go with it, Rich.”

“It really _is_ summer vacation,” Richie marveled softly. He ran one of his hands back into Eddie’s messy hair, kissing tenderly down the side of his neck. Eddie sighed softly, curling his toes. They were at the farthest end of the tent and swathed in blankets and sleeping bags, and everybody else still seemed sound asleep. He bit his lip to stifle a whimper when the hand on his cheek started to travel down the front of his chest, lifting up his shirt in steady, slow measures. “Summer vacation,” Richie whispered against his neck. “But it feels more like Christmas.” He brought up his questing hand, licked the tip of his thumb and sent it back down. “And I’m just dying to unwrap my present.” He swabbed the damp tip of his finger over one of Edie’s nipples and Eddie shoved his forearm into his mouth, biting down to hide a choked moan. 

“R-Richie,” he whispered, feeling hot and hazy. “Be _quiet_. Quit talking.” 

Richie grinned. “Good idea,” he said, tweaking Eddie’s nipple between his forefinger and thumb. “I’ll find something to occupy my mouth.” He slipped down underneath the voluminous blankets and Eddie shoved both of his hands over his mouth when Richie mouthed him through his briefs. 

“Nnh…” Eddie felt his eyelashes flutter when Richie pulled him out gently, sliding his undeniably skilled lips down Eddie’s shaft. “Oh, oh…” Eddie crammed two of his knuckles into his mouth and bit down, hard. His whole body shook as Richie worked him up and down, sucking like a vacuum and swirling his tongue. His hands were all over Eddie’s bottom half; thumbing the hollows of his hipbones, discarding his underwear, spreading him out. Richie pulled off with a filthy _pop_ and Eddie only had a moment to miss the wet heat of his boyfriend’s mouth before he was back, licking Eddie up and down slowly, nudging a damp finger against his asshole. 

Richie tapped one finger on Eddie’s hip and Eddie nodded. After a second Richie tapped him again, more urgently, and Eddie felt his cheeks go red with embarrassment; Richie couldn’t see him. He reached down with his free hand and tugged Richie’s hair and Richie was up in an instant, concern in his eyes. “You okay?” He whispered.

“Yes,” Eddie murmured around the fist he’d crammed into his mouth. “ _Yes_. I nodded, you couldn’t see, so…. _yes_.” 

Richie smiled. “Alright, then,” and his lips were on Eddie’s and he pushed his finger in and it was bliss, better than every time before, always. Eddie felt as Richie pressed deep and crooked his finger and Eddie let out a shuddering whine, twitching his hips against Richie’s. 

“Hole in one,” Richie chuckled softly, working his finger inside of his boyfriend. Eddie laughed breathlessly, biting Richie’s bottom lip. 

“Shut up, Rich- _ahhn_ , fuck--“

“Shhhh,” Richie cautioned playfully; he had two fingers in, now, rolling Eddie’s hips forward to get deeper. He kissed Eddie again and licked into him, tasting him slowly, and swallowed down all of the little whimpers and moans that Eddie just couldn’t hold back. 

“H-hang on,” Eddie said. He reached up and grabbed his toiletry bag, opened it and rummaged quietly. Richie was watching him with a smirk and one raised eyebrow. Eddie felt him curve his fingers, scissor them, and _press_ ; white flashed over his vision and he dropped the bag, trembling like a leaf, and pressed his hands over his face. “Fuck you, fuck you so fucking hard,” he hissed, red and embarrassed. “Get your own lube, you piece of shit.”

“Fuck who so fucking hard?” Richie chuckled. He sifted through Eddie’s dropped supplies and pulled out a tiny bottle with one hand, unstoppering it with his teeth. “Care to help a guy out?” He spit the cap to the side.

Eddie wanted to glare at Richie, really, but Richie twisted his fingers again and it was all Eddie could do to extend a shaking hand. Richie poured a liberal amount of the clear, cool gel into Eddie’s palm and tossed the bottle aside, reaching down to pull himself out of his boxers. Eddie dipped his hand down and slid his palm along the length of his boyfriend’s cock, watching with no small amount of satisfaction as Richie shuddered and closed his eyes, biting his bottom lip. 

“Fuck, yeah,” Richie buried his face against Eddie’s neck, kissing up to the shell of his ear. He rocked his hips leisurely into Eddie’s grasp. “When you’re ready, baby, guide me in.” 

Beet red and shaking, Eddie lifted his hips and wrapped his legs around Richie’s waist. Richie tugged his fingers out and palmed the small of Eddie’s back and Eddie whimpered again, soft and almost silent, as Richie pushed into him. 

“Oh God,” he whispered, his head thrown back. “Oh godohgodoh _god, Richie_ \--“

“I know, baby,” Richie whispered, sounding strained. He pulled Eddie closer with the hand on his back and rocked his hips, pressing directly against Eddie’s prostate, and Eddie yelped sharply and arched his body like he’d just licked a live wire. 

“Shit,” Richie slapped a hand over Eddie’s mouth and Eddie held it there, eyes wide. They scanned the tent for several long moments, wary, but nobody stirred. “Okay,” Richie whispered. “Okay.” He removed his hand and replaced it with his mouth, kissing Eddie heatedly as he started to move, very slowly. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Eddie whispered, his eyes screwed shut. Richie hummed and gave his hips a slow, languid roll that made Eddie see stars. “Riche, you feel….you feel so--“

“You too,” Richie said, sucking on Eddie’s bottom lip. His eyes were half closed and in the early light of the tent his eyelashes looked longer than ever, soft, delicate black smudges over his freckled cheeks. “I can’t resist you, Eddie, I can’t resist anything _about_ you, baby.” He lifted Eddie’s legs even higher and pushed himself in deeper and Eddie buried a shout into his mouth, clutching wantonly at Richie’s curls. “I’m gonna really start to move, okay? _Fuck_ , I…I can’t wait anymore.”

“H-hang on, hang on,” Eddie panted. He grabbed the twisted bottom of his Metallica shirt, balled it up, and shoved it into his own mouth. He nodded at Richie, cheeks warm. 

“Wait…” Richie groped above them, near where Eddie’s bag had been, clicking his tongue when he found what he was looking for. He slipped his glasses on, blinking, eyes warm and affectionate. “Wanna see you,” he explained bashfully.

Eddie felt his heart race. For a moment, he thought about spitting out his shirt and kissing Richie with everything that he had to give, and then Richie started thrusting his hips and Eddie abandoned every plan that wasn’t limited to ‘clenching his teeth while being wrapped around his boyfriend’s hard dick’. He threw his head back and breathed sharply through his nose while Richie set a steady, hard pace, the way that he _knew_ Eddie loved it, the way he could make him come in minutes, if he was worked up enough. 

“’Chee,” Eddie mumbled around his makeshift gag, his body feeling tense and ready. Richie buried his face in Eddie’s neck, panting and grunting softly, and lifted Eddie’s hips up higher until Eddie was almost bent in half, the smaller man’s legs up somewhere over his chest and by his shoulders. Eddie wailed, unable to help himself, both hands clutched over the shirt in his mouth, while Richie played his body like an instrument in an orchestra. “ _R’chie, ‘chee,_ please, _please_ \--“

“Gonna come,” Richie whispered in his ear, and Eddie nodded feverishly. “I can’t take it when you say my name like that, Eds, _Eddie_ \--” Eddie threw his arms around Richie’s shoulders and raked his nails roughly down the taller man’s back, teetering on the edge of his own abyss. Richie arched back with a gasp and, oddly, grabbed one of Eddie’s legs and pressed a tender, sucking kiss to his calf and that was all it took; Eddie came undone. He clenched his jaw as he came, coating the space between them with his release. Richie leaned in and bit down on the side of Eddie’s neck, his body jerking reflexively as Eddie spasmed around him, and filled him up, groaning long and low through his climax. 

They panted heavily for several minutes, Richie stock still, Eddie running his hands over the other man’s back and through his hair. Richie moved first; he pulled out slowly, eyelashes fluttering around a strained groan, and flopped back down beside Eddie. He gently took the ruined shirt out of the other man’s mouth, coaxed it off of him. He wiped Eddie’s stomach and his own dick, and reached his hand around to wipe the back of Eddie’s thighs and his ass. Eddie kissed him drowsily throughout, pressing random pecks against Richie’s cheeks, his neck, his chin. 

Richie shoved the shirt down into the blankets and kicked his soiled underwear off. He pulled Eddie in tightly and kissed him lazily, their tongues brushing, yanking the blankets up to their chins. 

Eddie sighed and shuddered while Richie kissed him over and over again. They touched each other everywhere they could reach and they were warm together, happy and luxuriant and indelibly in love. 

Of course, Richie was the first to speak. “You’re amazing,” he whispered against Eddie’s lips. His glasses were awkwardly pressed against the pillow, crooked, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Everything about you is _amazing_ , Eddie.” 

“You’re not too bad yourself,” Eddie murmured, his eyes closed, a beatific smile stretched over his lips. “Love you, Rich, so much.”

“Love you too, Eds,” Richie pressed their lips together again. “Good Christmas present. A-plus, ten out of ten, would recommend the experience to a friend.” Eddie giggled until he was shaking with it and Richie covered his mouth with his own, laughing. 

A muffled thump landed on Eddie’s back and he jumped and looked over his shoulder, startled. Bill was glaring daggers at him, only his eyes and nose visible from his nest of blankets. They could see Mike’s arm over him, limp in sleep.

“If you want to be in love that l-loudly, go outside,” Bill whispered. “Either way, be q-quiet,” He rolled over with a “ _hmph_ ”, and Eddie desperately tried not to laugh while Richie buried his face into the smaller man’s neck, his shoulders quaking with near silent giggles.

* * *

When Eddie woke up for the second time several hours later, he was alone in the large expanse of the tent. “This is way more on brand,” he mumbled to himself as he sat and stretched. He stood up, naked, and rummaged through his backpack absently for clean clothes. He pulled out a green t-shirt and looked over it appraisingly when Ben walked into the tent, a book in his hand, and stopped cold to stare at Eddie. Eddie stared back for several seconds and they gaped at each other, feeling totally unreal. 

“Oh my God,” Ben said, his face quickly going purple. He covered his eyes. “I’m so sorry!”

“Why didn’t you knock?” Eddie wailed, shoving the t-shirt over his crotch. “Ben! Why didn’t you _knock_?!”

“It’s a tent! I didn’t know I was supposed to knock! It’s communal! I just came to put my book away!”

“THEN PUT YOUR BOOK DOWN AND GO!”

Bev poked her head into the tent, frowning. “Hey, I heard yell- well, _hello_ , Eddie!”

“Get the fuck out of here!” Eddie yelled, his voice high. “GO!” Bev laughed and yanked a mortified Ben out of the tent. Eddie stood by himself in blankets that came up to his knees, heaving, and then Richie’s grinning face popped into the tent. 

“Heeeeeey,” he smirked. “Heard a very naked guy in here was very distressed, could maybe use some-- OW, Eddie!” Eddie had reached down and flung the first thing within his reach at Richie; his inhaler. It bounced off of Richie’s forehead and clattered to the ground. Richie looked down and let out a huffing guffaw of laughter; when he looked back up, he was being pelted with all of Eddie’s toiletries. “Ahh! I’m going, baby take a chill pill--hey!” He snatched the little bottle of lube out of the air as it sailed towards his chest and pointed sternly at Eddie. “Throw the toothpaste all you want, but this little baby’s too important to lose!”

“Get the FUCK out of here!” Eddie heaved, his hand still clutching the t-shirt over his deal. Richie cackled and retreated, blowing Eddie a kiss on his way out. Eddie stood in the center of the tent, huffing wildly for a moment before his shoulders drooped and he sighed. He threw the shirt onto the ground and pulled on a pair of briefs, disgruntled. 

The weather outside was unapologetically gorgeous. The sun was high and warm, and the campground smelled fresh, crisp and clean. The six other Losers were seated around the smoldering fire, laughing and eating breakfast together. Eddie’s heart raced when he caught Richie’s eyes, but he maintained his stern frown, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Richie was wearing his shorts from yesterday and no shirt, his hair in a bun on the top of his head. He turned, setting his mug down, and Eddie felt his stomach twist; there were at least six long, angry looking furrows down Richie’s shoulders that arced up onto the back of his neck. 

_Holy shit, I did that_ , Eddie thought. _I didn’t even notice that I did that_.

“Baby, baby, baby!” Richie yelled, running over to meet Eddie halfway. He picked Eddie up and swung him around, kissing him. “I let you sleep, again, two days in a row. Meet me; the best ever boyfriend. I notice you went with the green shirt, still, an excellent choice. Reminds me of the time it was pressed over your dick.”

“Morning Rich,” Eddie swung his legs around Richie’s waist and let himself be held. “Your hair looks great.”

Richie beamed. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Better than the ponytail,” Eddie rubbed his hands over Richie’s broad shoulders. “Does it hurt that bad?”

“Does what hurt?” Richie blinked. “Is this gonna be a pick up line?”

“No, you walking cliché. Your back?” Eddie winced just thinking about it. “I’m so sorry. It was so _intense_ and I had no idea--“

“No! No no no no,” Richie shook his head wildly. He was grinning, his freckled cheekbones splashed with a light blush. “I _like_ it, Eds.”

“You do?”

“Fuck yeah, I do. From the moment to the now- like the sting and burn when I move? Reminds me of you flat on your back underneath me,” Richie pulled Eddie closer, whispering into his ear. “Open and ready for me, trying so hard to be quiet.”

“Richie,” Eddie deadpanned, his cheeks starting to feel warm. “I just woke up, don’t start.” 

“Hard not to start with you,” Richie nuzzled his face into Eddie’s neck, glasses pressing against him. “Wanna take a walk? There’s a river near here, and a lake. Everybody’s going swimming.”

“Anything you want.” Eddie looked up at Richie, running his fingers up from the man’s shoulders. He grazed the side of his face, his cheekbones, and his full, pink lips. 

“It’s gonna be cold, it comes down from the mountains.”

“Sure.”

“And you’re probably going to have to be naked, or at least in your underwear. And it might be dirty. Maybe there’ll be leeches.”

“Yeah, Richie. It’s fine.”

Richie stared hard at him. “Who are you and what have you done with my Eddie Spaghetti?”

Eddie laughed. He graced his fingers lightly over Richie’s bare collarbones. “It’s hot out,” he said, softly. “We’re out of Derry and I’m with my best friends and my boyfriend. I’m on the first real adventure of my life. I want to live boldly.” Richie was still staring at him. 

“Best friends,” Richie said. “And your boyfriend. So…I’m not your best friend?”

“Lucky you, existing in both categories.” 

Richie beamed again and jumped, setting Eddie down. “GUYS!” He bellowed. “Eddie’s in!”

“What?” Stan looked up, brows furrowed. “You’re serious?”

“Yeah, he said so!” 

“Alright, cool,” Mike nodded. He handed Eddie a glass of water when they approached the fire, smiling. “Morning, Eddie.”

“Good morning,” Eddie said happily. “Thank you,” he sipped at the water, smiling. 

Bill walked around the fire and clapped Eddie on the shoulder, good-naturedly. “Morning. You’re in, huh?”

“Sure, why not. Sounds fun.”

“Hhhm, weird,” Bill smirked at Eddie. “It’s just that, th-this morning, I thought Richie was in, not the other way around.” Eddie choked and dropped his water.

“Bill,” he gasped, scandalized. Bill patted his back, laughing. 

“S-sorry, couldn’t resist,” Bill giggled. “You make yourself an obvious t-target.”

Eddie glared up at the taller man, feeling something strong and strange unravel in his chest. “…You’re damn right.”

“Hm?”

Eddie smiled widely at Bill. “He was in. I think you heard, and I don’t think I need to explain it.” He walked over to Richie, took the mug out of his hands and set it down on the picnic table. He leaned up and kissed the surprised man tenderly, sliding a hand over his chest. 

Richie smiled at him, pushing up his glasses. “What’s all this for?”

“Just having a good day, I guess,” Eddie said. Richie slipped his arms around him. 

“Because of that hot dicking I gave you earlier?” Richie grinned. Behind him, Stan and Mike whirled around; Mike looked shocked and Stan looked horrified. 

“What?” Stan said. Richie laughed heartily, pulling a flustered Eddie against his chest. “ _What_?”

Breakfast ticked away from them lazily. Everybody was in a good mood; the weather, the camaraderie, and their newfound freedom bolstered them to new heights. They operated as a perfect unit; Eddie felt them work off of each other effortlessly while cooking and cleaning. When the sun was high in the sky and the heat of the midsummer day beat down upon them at its worst, the seven of them found themselves on a cliff’s edge, looking down. The water below them was clear and deep.

“Alright,” Mike said. He rocked back and forth on his feet and took off his shirt and his jeans. “Everybody still in?” 

They looked at each other and started to undress. Stan folded his clothes neatly, setting them back, and Beverly chucked her sundress over top of him, giggling. When they were all in their underwear they peered over the edge of the cliff again, curious and half full of trepidation.

“Who goes first?” Eddie swallowed hard. He felt hot in the stagnant air, even in his briefs, and nervous. 

Richie, Bill, Stan and Ben looked at him. Richie and Ben exchanged a sly look and Bill smiled widely.

“Qu-quick game,” Bill said. “You’ll know it. Whoever loses goes first?”

“Wait,” Stan said seriously. “How are we judging?”

“Distance,” Richie snorted. “Obviously.”

“Wait,” Eddie interrupted, catching on. “No, not distance, it’s--“

“It’s not mass, Eddie,” Ben said gently. “It’s never been mass.” He leaned forward and spit, smiling. 

“Haystack! Haystack gets off a good one!”

“That’s so stupid,” Eddie groaned. “Distance doesn’t tell us anything, seriously, I could drop a pube and it would go the same distance at the end of the day--“

“Don’t do that, your pubes are very valuable to me--“

“Shut _up_ , Richie, you freak, Jesus Christ, it’s called _terminal velocity_ \--“

“Hey!” Bev shouted suddenly. They all turned around and looked; she had walked back several feet and she stood there now, her face split in a grin, looking radiantly happy. “Assholes, do I need to show you how it’s done?” She ran forward and Eddie thought she was going to dash right over the edge but she stopped short, hocking, and spit; her loogie travelled out, far, and down. 

“I think,” Bev said, wiping her mouth. “That the victor here is _obvious_.” 

“Distance,” Ben whispered. He was looking at Beverly like he’d never seen her before, wildly in love. “Out _and_ down. Amazing.” 

“Truly,” Mike nodded, thumbing over his bottom lip. “She wins.”

“Anything that we do is just us trying to imitate that,” Richie agreed. 

Eddie scowled and crossed his arms. “I’m not voting for her to win,” he said. “You’re going to say I’m being belligerent but that’s NOT the criteria.”

Stan patted his head. “You’re outvoted, Ed, majority rules. Don’t be a sore loser.”

“You c-can’t try to change the rules just because you’re a chicken about jumping, Kaspbrak,” Bill said.

Eddie glared. “Listen, move,” he shoved his way back past everybody and stormed back several feet. He squared off his feet and set his jaw and ran, full tilt, off of the edge of the cliff. 

“What the _FUCK_ \--” he heard Richie screech and then it was all wooshing air and whistling wind, and the sharp, cold splash of the clear water below him. He felt himself pulled down and he swam back up, fluid and ethereal. He broke the surface of the lake with a gasp and slicked his wet hair back. 

“I am NOT a sore loser,” he shouted. “It has ALWAYS been mass!” He watched his friends bend and laugh, and saw Richie, beaming, set down his glasses, shake out his hair, and jump down to meet him. 

Richie landed straight beside him and shot back up immediately, torpedo-like. He picked Eddie up and let the smaller boy cling to him, wet and belligerent. “It’s okay to be a sore loser, baby,” Richie grinned at him and kissed his cheek, his curls flattened damp over his head.

“Better than being a happy idiot loser,” Eddie grumbled, but he kissed Richie anyway, at the very first opportunity he saw. 

* * *

That night, all seven of them sat beside the campfire again. Eddie lounged in Richie’s lap wearing a thin hoodie and his shorts. Richie’s hands were under the hoodie, resting against the warm skin of his boyfriend’s stomach. Their hair was still wet and Eddie could feel Richie’s fingers and see his bare feet tapping to music that he played in his head, tunes that nobody else was privy to. 

“It’s unfair,” Bev said to Eddie. Her nose and forehead were bright pink. “You’re in the sun for two seconds, Ed; blissful, gorgeous, model tan. I’m in the sun, same amount of time; Beverly Marsh, the amazing Lobster Girl.”

“That’s what you get for cheating at group games,” Eddie pouted.

“We can’t all be so incredibly gifted as the beautiful Mr. Kaspbrak,” Richie sighed. “Believe it or not, my boy has good genes.”

“Or not,” Eddie repeated. “Or not, Richie, so fucking rude.” 

Richie slipped a hand against the side of Eddie’s face, slowly pushing him aside. “You saw him in the water,” Richie said to Bev. “Such a little stud. Graceful as all fuck.”

“I have actually never been so complimented while being so insulted,” Eddie deadpanned from behind Richie’s hand. 

“I know,” Bev giggled. She gently dislodged Richie’s hand from Eddie’s cheek, fixing his hair while she went. “I mean, just look at him.”

“Perfect bone structure, right?”

“Totally,” Bev agreed. “Those big doe eyes. And his eyelashes belong in a fucking magazine ad for Maybelline.”

“He’s kind of stacked, too, don’t you think?” Ben asked. He sidled up beside Beverly, wrapping one firm arm around her. “Like…you’re small,” he said to Eddie, kindly. “But you’re sturdy.”

“He’s _thick_ ,” Richie said dreamily. “In all of the right spots.”

“I am actually still sitting right here,” Eddie said. 

“Okay, so, when you say thick, what exactly does that mean?” Ben asked. “I’ve been trying to figure it out.”

“Okay, so, okay- I’m skinny, right?” Richie said. Ben nodded. “And Bev is curvy, and you’re, like, stocky. I would say Stan and Bill are more my body type and Mike is muscular! Very athletic. Now, look at this guy here,” Richie jiggled a very annoyed Eddie with both hands. “Small! So small! But not skinny, and he isn’t quite curvy. He’s soft, right, in all of the good spots, his fucking thighs are like memory foam, and his ass, _God_ , don’t let me get started--“

“This is the single most embarrassing moment of my life,” Eddie said.

“Are you trying to tell me that you aren’t used to Richie constantly embarrassing you?” Stan swung his legs over the log to join them. “This is what you chose. It’s not like you’re new here.”

“Here,” Mike joined them, handing off a beer to Ben. Ben saluted him, giving Beverly the first sip. Bill sat down on Richie’s other side, carefully reading a map by the firelight.

“Mike,” Richie said. “Do you ever just want to wax poetic about your boyfriends and they won’t let you? Because I’d buy a billboard just to put Eddie’s ass on it, you know, and I’m interested in your opinions.”

Mike smirked and observed Richie for a moment. “I like,” he paused, considering. “Bill’s laugh. When he laughs, his eyes close and his nose wrinkles, and it’s amazing. Perfect looking. And I like Stan’s annoyed mannerisms. The way he cocks a hip out when he’s thinking, or blows his hair out of his eyes.” 

“Michael,” Stan grumbled, blushing. Mike laughed and wrapped an arm around the embarrassed man’s shoulders. 

“Well, it’s true.”

“Ugh, so pure, gag me,” Richie rolled his eyes. He pulled Eddie close and kissed his cheek. “I like your smile when you first wake up,” Richie whispered into Eddie’s ear. Eddie blushed and squirmed. “I love your freckles and your sweet eyes.”

“The way you look when you open your eyes after we kiss,” Eddie whispered back. “Your laugh. Your singing voice.”

“Your feisty little heart,” Richie grinned.

Eddie pressed their lips together. “Your _kind_ heart,” he murmured. Richie tilted his head, smiling. Eddie brushed his knuckles over Richie’s jaw.

“Okay. We need to put our heads together and figure out where we’re going when we leave tomorrow,” Bill said. “We have a cabin reserved somewhere in T-Tennessee, right?”

“No,” Richie insisted sharply. “No plans!”

“I, for one, am very pro-planning,” Stan said. Mike smiled at him. 

“No plans, no rules!”

“Richie,” Ben said. “You’re not driving, so you don’t really get a say.”

“If we have a cabin reserved, don’t we already technically _have_ plans?” Bev asked Mike.

“No plans, no rules, just right!”

“If you don’t stop screaming in my ear,” Eddie said lovingly, “I’m going to punch you in the face, babe.” Richie pouted and pinched at Eddie’s side. “Don’t pout. Pouters sleep on the _other_ side of the tent.” Richie pout dissolved into a smug grin and they kissed. Richie rocked Eddie in his arms and Eddie buried his face into Richie’s neck, smiling, enjoying the scent of a campfire for the first time in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MY GOODNESS you all warm my heart right up on this freezing Saturday morning!! Bless up! Thank you for the overwhelmingly kind feedback, I'm tickled pink!
> 
> I hope that this chapter pleases the court just as the last one did. Please let me know what you think <3
> 
> Tumblr: waxagent, come say hi!
> 
> xoxox  
> waxagent


	3. Let's Hear It For The Boy!

“Should I even be so concerned about my nails when we’re running so low on toilet paper?” Richie asked seriously. Both of his hands were fanned out on Beverly’s lap and she was painting Richie’s nails carefully to match her own; a bright, metallic blue. 

“I don’t think the two things are m-mutually exclusive,” Bill grinned, shoulder to shoulder with Bev.

“You up next, Bill?”

“Maybe one nail. I really d-don’t want to match Richie.”

Richie gasped, shooting one hand up to clutch at his heart. “That HURTS.”

“If you smudge your nails, Rich, I’m not re-doing them.” Beverly said seriously.

“Ah, sorry Bevvie,” Richie said, hastily putting them back onto her lap. Bev smiled at him. 

“You’ve only got two more to go, stay still for, like, one minute.”

“Okay.”

“Do you want your toes done too?”

“Pffft, no way,” Richie grinned, wiggling his eyebrows. “That’s hella gay.”

“You’re hella gay,” Eddie said. He sat back to back with Richie, reading a newspaper. 

“Don’t say that just because I’m getting a manicure, Eds.”

“I’m saying that because four nights ago you said you’d like to die choking on my dick, dipshit,” Eddie grumbled. He itched his leg. 

“Still itchy?” Bill asked. He smiled at Eddie, sympathetic. “I asked Mike and Stan to get you some calamine lotion and some c-cotton balls.”

“For the record,” Richie said, leaning in to kiss Bev’s cheek. He waved his hands and blew on his fingernails. “I really wouldn’t mind suffocating on your dick, Eddie. I love your dick.”

“I know, hence the gay,” Eddie said. “Yeah, super fucking itchy. It’s like I got eaten alive that last day in the Poconos.”

“Because you’re so sweet,” Bev smiled at him. Richie barked out a laugh and Eddie glared at him. “Isn’t that what they say? Hang on, I know a thing,” She stood and turned down the hallway of their rental cabin. “Be right back!” 

“You could be salty as fuck like Stanley, and bugs would probably avoid you like the plague.”

“No talking shit, T-Tozier,” Bill said. “I’ll ruin your nails if I have to.”

“You wouldn’t _dare_.”

“Don’t t-test me.”

“Here,” Bev said, walking back into the sitting room to settle beside Eddie. She had a cool, damp cloth in her hands. She pressed it over the worst of Eddie’s bites; a little constellation of three red bumps on his left calf. 

Eddie sighed, folding up his newspaper and setting it aside. “Thank you, Bev.”

“No sweat. Just let that take down the swelling a little, and try to ignore it. By the time that Mike, Ben, and Stan get back with groceries and you can get some calamine on it, you’ll be as good as new.”

“Better than new,” Richie mused from behind him. “Because you won’t be itchy, so you won’t be such a crank-ass.”

“Crank-ass,” Eddie repeated dryly.

“Yeah, it’s short for cranky asshole.”

“Yeah, I got that, Rich. Thanks so much.”

Richie turned around behind Eddie, carefully looping his arms around the smaller boy’s shoulders. He rubbed Eddie’s chest and Eddie sighed, leaning back against the welcoming warmth of his boyfriend. 

“Does it make me a little bitch that I’m excited to sleep on a bed tonight?” Eddie asked, looking up at Richie upside down. 

The taller man grinned, planting a kiss on Eddie’s nose. “Nah. We’re all thinking it.”

“S-Stan will probably call you a quitter,” Bill said. He stood and made his way to the tiny kitchen. 

“Stan can bite me,” Eddie said.

“Stan would love to bite you, are you kidding me?” Bev laughed. “Don’t reward him for bad behavior. You’ve been doing that to Richie all these years and look at how he turned out.” 

“I’m a menace,” Richie said smugly.

“Did somebody say what we’re all thinking?” Stan said, walking into the cabin. He had two paper bags of groceries in his arms. 

“So if I insult myself, Stanley Uris appears,” Richie said. He nodded. “Duly noted.”

“Hey, Eddie,” Ben said. He was holding a smaller paper bag, the top folded down and over to protect its contents. He knelt down beside Eddie, kissing Bev’s cheek. “Hi sweetheart.”

“Hi Ben,” Richie cooed.

“Hi to you too, Rich,” Ben laughed. His beard was growing in, thick and even, and his sandy hair was clean and swept back. “Eddie, anyway, here; calamine, an anti-histamine pill, anti-histamine cream, cortisone, applicators, the whole shebang. Everything on your list present and accounted for?”

“Looks like it,” Eddie smiled, rummaging through the bag. “Ah, wait, did somebody get bug spray?”

Ben nodded. “Yeah, but it’s in its own bag in case it leaks so that it doesn’t get on the food or the medicine. Just like you asked.”

“He’s testing you,” Bev grinned. “Ben listens.”

“I listen and, not only that, I remember,” Ben smiled back at Bev. “We’re still going out tonight? That club in Gatlinburg has a live band going up. It’d be nice.”

“Do you think they card out here?” Stan yelled from the kitchen, putting groceries away. “Oh, hey,” he said as Mike entered, two more bags with him. They kissed softly. 

“What’s in all of those?” Eddie asked.

“Beer,” Mike and Stan said, simultaneously. 

“In case they do card, we’ll pre-game a little,” Mike continued, smiling. “Here Eddie, your cotton balls. Catch?”

“I think he’ll p-pass,” Bill said. He took the bag and gave Mike a kiss on the cheek, and walked the cotton balls out to Eddie. “Here.” 

“Thank you,” Eddie said gratefully. “I’m actually going to go shower first, if we’re going out for sure.” He stands, the used washcloth, cotton balls and medicine bundled up in his arms. “I’ll be really quick.”

“Hey,” Richie said seriously. “Want company?”

“Yes,” Eddie grinned. “Bev, wanna come get my back?”

“Beep beep, Edward,” Richie groaned, throwing his hands up over his face while Bev laughed raucously beside him.

* * *

The club that the they go to is nestled in the heart of downtown Gatlinburg. So close to the base of the smoky mountains, the night air was warm and crisp, and Eddie smiled, comfortable in his khaki shorts and light blue t-shirt. He was already buzzing, the edge of his three beers mellowed down only somewhat by their twenty-minute walk. He held Richie’s hand tightly while Richie walked beside him, a lit cigarette clamped in his other hand. 

Eddie tugged on Richie’s hand. “Hey Rich?”

“Yeah?” Richie stopped and turned to look at Eddie. They fell behind the other Losers as Eddie leaned up and kissed his boyfriend, licking coyly against his bottom lip. 

Richie smirked. “Yeah?” He said again. He flicked away the half smoked cigarette and tugged Eddie in, running a hand through his hair. 

“Yeah,” Eddie said, leaning into Richie’s touch. He pressed his mouth to Richie’s again and they kissed softly. “That’s all.”

Laughing, Richie hauled Eddie up and over his shoulder. “So cute! I’ve never seen you this wasted this fast, I love it!”

“They have stronger beer in Tennessee!” Eddie said loudly. He ran his hands down the length of Richie’s back, and shivered thinking about the still healing scratches concealed underneath his boyfriend’s shirt. “Mike told me!”

“Mike is a wolf in sheep’s clothing,” Richie said, patting Eddie’s ass. Eddie laughed and pawed lightly at Richie’s back while Richie jogged ahead, bouncing Eddie on his shoulder. “Kaspbrak’s about to bottom out, you guys.”

“Already?” Stan asked, brows raised. His arm was looped through Bill’s. 

“Does he need to go back to the cabin?” Mike asked. “I’ll walk with him.”

Eddie gasped. “No!! Nononono.” He wiggled down off of Richie’s shoulder, landing roughly and stumbling. “I am FINE. I’m fine. Seriously, guys. I’m fine.”

“Let me guess,” Bev grinned. “You’re fine?”

“Bevvie gets it!” Eddie said. He swung his arms back up, grabbing at the air. “Richie, if you’d be so kind.”

“You bet, sweetpea,” Richie lifted Eddie again. He pecked the shorter man on the lips. “So fucking cute, my goddamn fella here.”

“I v-v-volunteer to carry Eddie next, if we’re creating a list,” Bill said, smirking back over his shoulder. While he was looking at the rest of the his friends a burly, brown haired man shoved past him, hard. Bill yelped, stumbling and falling, and accidentally took Stan down with him. “A-ah!!” 

“Shit,” Mike mumbled. He leaned down and grabbed Stan’s hands while Bev did the same for Bill. “Watch where you’re going!” He yelled.

“Fuck OFF!” The man yelled back, flipping them the double bird. 

“FUCK YOU!” Eddie screamed over Richie’s shoulder. He threw up his own middle fingers, petulant. 

“Eddie, Eds, no,” Richie yanked Eddie down to his chest hastily. “Don’t write a check your bouncy little ass can’t cash.”

“Hey! Hey!” Another man was running in their direction, chasing after the other stranger. He was stocky and blonde with a full beard, and his nose was bleeding profusely. “Fuck,” he swore. He stopped, catching his breath, and bent over. “Fuck.”

“Everything okay?” Mike asked.

“Yeah, shit, did he hit you?” The blonde man righted himself and ran his hands back through his shaggy hair. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no harm d-done,” Bill said. “Is there anything we can do?”

“I can go and fight that guy,” Eddie said seriously.

The blonde man barked out a huff of surprised laughter. “Uh, no need,” he grinned, wiping off his nose. “I’m Jesse,” he held out his clean hand to Mike, who shook it firmly. 

“Hey, hang on,” Ben piped in. He took a handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it off to Jesse, who took it and dabbed his nose.

“Thanks, man,” Jesse said. “You guys locals?”

“No, we’re from Maine,” Richie said. He set Eddie down and rubbed his shoulders. “On a cross country adventure, obviously.”

“Oh yeah? My dudes and me are on a tour too. But that fucker,” Jesse pointed a short finger in the direction that the other man had gone. “We’re leaving him in fucking Gatlinburg.”

“Tour?” Bev blinked. “Are you guys the band performing tonight?”

“At Mistress Keg, yeah, well,” Jesse sighed. “We _were_. That idiot was our front man. We had, uh, a verbal disagreement.” 

“Aw, shit,” Bev grimaced. “Tough luck?”

“Tough luck.”

“We’ll b-buy you a drink to make up your evening,” Bill said. Jesse shook his hand. 

“Sounds nice, man. You guys seem chill.”

“Wait!” Eddie blinked. He tugged on Richie’s shirt. “Front man, what’s a front man?”

“The singer, typically,” Richie said. “Sometimes the guitar player, too.”

“You sing!” Eddie stage whispered. Everybody turned, varying expressions of shock and mirth on their faces. Richie’s lips were turned down in a frown, his brows furrowed. 

“Babe, they need a _real_ singer.”

“You are a real singer!!” Eddie shoved Richie towards Jesse. “Take him. Take Richie! He’s good.”

“Eddie!” Richie hissed, flushing. “I don’t know any of their songs.”

“Hang on,” Bill said, realization dawning on his face. “Richie knows about a million covers. And he p-plays the guitar.”

“He’s like a song encyclopedia!” Beverly said, nodding feverishly. 

“I guarantee you, he’ll know any popular or obscure song that you ask him to play,” Ben said. 

“He’s always on key,” Mike insisted. “Me, I can’t carry a tune in a bucket with a lid on it. But Richie is always…he sounds _professional_. He sounds amazing.”

“Listen,” Stan said. He stepped forward, toe-to-toe with Jesse. “You’d be a fucking _idiot_ not to get this man to play with you tonight. We’re willing to loan him out, but we want him back in pristine condition.”

Jesse frowned thoughtfully, sucking his teeth. He looked at Richie. “You’re good?”

“Yes,” Stan said sharply. “He’s _very_. Fucking. Good.”

“Hey now, hey,” Eddie cut in. He stepped ahead of Richie and Stan, squaring his chin up to Jesse. Jesse looked down at Eddie, using Ben’s handkerchief to finish mopping up his nose; Eddie was half of his size. “What happened with the other douche? What did he do that started all of this?”

“Well,” Jesse hesitated. “He was fucking my sister. I confronted him, he sucker punched me, and he bailed.”

“Well,” Eddie pointed at his own chest and smirked. “Richie’s fucking me. He’s not gonna go anywhere _near_ your sister.”

Richie buried his face into his hands and let out a weak, embarrassed moan.

Jesse was silent for a long minute. He stared at Eddie, handkerchief concealing his nose and mouth. Eddie stared back, set in stone. Eventually, Jesse moved his gaze to Richie. Richie looked back at Jesse over his blue painted nails. 

“So,” Jesse said. “Yeah?”

A beat. 

Richie nodded. “I can play anything you want me to play,” He said, voice unusually quiet. “I sing just fine, and I sing on key.”

Nodding, Jesse extended his hand and Richie shook it, hard. “Alright,” Jesse grinned. He looked over the rest of the Losers. His bright blue eyes were warm and friendly. “I can take him?”

“Pristine condition,” Eddie reminded him sternly.

“Nothing but mint,” Jesse agreed. He jerked his head towards town. “Richie, right? C’mon, we’re on in an hour fifteen.”

“One second,” Richie said. He turned to Eddie, eyes wide and frantic. “What the _fuck_ , Eds?”

Eddie looked up at Richie. “Listen,” he said. He set his hands on Richie’s chest and met his eyes. “Richie, you are more than a…a bedroom rockstar! You’re _amazing_ , okay? We know it. You know it. Go out there and show them how wonderful you are.”

Richie bent down and wrapped his arms around Eddie tightly. He pressed a firm, long kiss to the smaller man’s temple. “Thank you,” he said, voice thick. “Eddie, I love you. I love you _so_ much.”

“I love you too, you gangly idiot.” Eddie hugged Richie back. They held each other for a minute and then Richie broke away, beaming. “Alright,” Eddie laughed. “Go kick ass.”

“Yeah,” Richie grinned, jogging backwards. He slapped Jesse on the shoulder and turned around, running ahead of him. “Catch you fucking nerds at the bar!”

“Fuck yeah,” Eddie smirked. He crossed his arms behind his head and turned to face the rest of his friends. “How about that, huh?” Everybody stared at him. “What? What’d I say?”

* * *

“I would like,” Eddie pursed his lips, thinking. His thoughts were jumbled and hazy. “A…whiskey.”

“A whiskey, huh?” The bartender, a very curvy blonde, laughed heavily.

“A whiskey,” Eddie nodded.

“Is there even any point in my asking how he wants it?”

“No,” Mike said. He sat beside Eddie at the bar. The other four Losers had scored a corner table close to the little stage. “Why don’t we amend that to a whiskey sour on the rocks, huh? And a bud light for me.”

The girl behind the bar giggled and nodded. “Comin’ right up.”

“Sour,” Eddie said, face pinched.

“You’ll like it, Eddie,” Mike extended his arm and Eddie shuffled against him, smiling. 

“You think we should get a drink for Richie?”

“Yeah, but later, after he’s done on stage.”

Eddie hummed. “What songs do you think he’ll play?” He leaned his head on Mike’s shoulder.

“I don’t know. Knowing Richie it’ll either back great or terrible. He doesn’t do anything in half measures,” Mike carded a large hand through Eddie’s wavy hair.

“Here you go, cuties,” The bartender handed off their drinks. “That’s six dollars.”

Mike counted out twelve dollars and slid it over the bar top. “Keep the change, please.”

“Thank you,” the girl smiled up at Mike. “Hey, my name’s Missy. Just so you know, in case you have to ask for me.”

“I’m Mike,” Mike smiled and shook Missy’s hand. “This is Eddie. Please don’t let him order anything unless somebody is with him.”

“I’ve been told that I’m small and have no tolerance for alcohol,” Eddie said.

Missy laughed. “You got it, Mister Mike.” She grinned at him coyly. “See you around?”

“We’ll be here all night,” Mike promised. Missy giggled and went to the next patron in the crowded bar, but she spared them one last glance before they left the bar. “Let’s go, kiddo,” Mike steered Eddie out of the way of the next customers. 

“Michael,” Eddie hissed as they moved away from the bar. “She was _hitting on you_. Mike!”

Mike laughed. “I know, Eddie, it’s fine. She was polite and she didn’t bother me.”

“But…wait,” Eddie blinked and sipped his drink. “Don't you guys have an ‘open’ thing?”

“Sure, technically, and she’s cute. Seems nice,” Mike said easily. “But…” he stopped for a moment. Eddie followed the track of his friend’s gaze; Bill and Stan were sitting beside each other, speaking quietly. Stan made a face and slid a hand back through Bill’s hair, neatening him, and Bill laughed. He shook out his tresses and caught Eddie’s eye; he smiled, but then he looked at Mike and his smile changed, softening. 

“I don’t know,” Mike said, his voice soft and intense. “I never wanted anything else once I found them.”

Eddie beamed at Mike, hugging his middle tightly. “Love you, Mikey,” he mumbled, kissing Mike’s upper arm. “You’re honestly, just…just the best.”

Mike laughed. “I love you too, Eddie.”

“Hey hey, guys,” Richie voice echoed through the packed bar and Eddie gasped. He whirled around, eyes wide, drink clutched to his chest.

“ _Mike_!” 

“I know it’s starting, come on,” Mike said gently. He tugged Eddie over to their table and took his place on Bill’s free side. Eddie sat down next to Bev and Ben. His eyes were glued to Richie. 

The tall man stood front and center on the stage. Richie rocked back and forth, shifting his weight nervously. The corner of his lips twitched and Eddie felt a horrible black spot of nerves in his stomach. Then, Richie grinned widely and shook his curls out and Eddie felt calm confidence radiating from him. He sighed, a dopey smile on his face. “How’s everybody doing tonight, huh?”

“He’s suck a peacock,” Stan grumbled, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Shh, no, his cock is great,” Eddie said, eyes still fixed on the stage. Beside him, Ben choked on his drink. 

“So, if any of you are familiar with this lovely group of people behind me, you’ll notice that I am _not_ the lead singer,” Richie said into the microphone. “We’re taking a break from each other, figuring things out. So I’m the handsome rebound, Richie Tozier, and these dapper folk behind me are Miss Molly.” Richie picked up the borrowed guitar slung around his shoulders. “And we hope you guys like covers of stuff you’ve heard before, because that’s what we’ve got.”

Richie cleared his throat and nodded. Behind him, the drummer, a statuesque woman with a bright blue mohawk, tapped out an opening beat and Jesse picked up right away. He stood beside Richie, his nose cleaned and set, working the bass in his thick hands. After a second, Richie looked down at his borrowed guitar, the lights reflecting off of his glasses, and started playing. 

They _worked_. 

“Holy shit,” Eddie whispered, bouncing in his seat. “Holy shit, holy shit, oh my god.”

“ _Show me show me show me how you do that trick, the one that makes me scream, she said_ ,” Richie sang, his eyes squeezed shut, his fingers roving deftly over the instrument in his hands. “ _The one that makes me laugh, she said. Threw her arms around my neck._ ” He opened his eyes and looked to his left. Jesse grinned at him, nodding, and Richie belted through the next lines of the song with confidence and his usual, weird grace. 

“This song is aces,” Beverly whispered. She was beaming, her head tilted towards Eddie. Eddie glanced at her; Beverly was gazing up at Richie with a wild look of adoration on her face. He lips were parted in an awed smile. “Sorry,” she whispered, a blush dancing over her freckled cheeks. Her eyes were shining. “I’m just so _proud_ of him.” Eddie laced his fingers with Bev’s and squeezed. 

“I get you,” Eddie said. He kissed Bev’s hand absently, and rubbed her knuckles with his thumb. He knocked back the last half on his whiskey and leaned his head on Beverly’s shoulder, smiling alongside her while he watched Richie, pride rushing through him. “I feel that way, too.”

* * *

“Oh God,” Eddie panted. He was braced against the alley at the back of the bar, both hands flat against the brick. “I’m gonna throw up.”

“We told you to slow down,” Stan remarked from somewhere beside him. “You wouldn’t listen. In fact, I think you cycled through every one of us to go up with you and get drinks out of that poor bartender.”

“Shut up, Stan.”

“You shut up. I’m the one out here with your stubborn ass, missing Richie playing.” Stan grumbled. “Come here, come on,” he tugged Eddie up and Eddie went with him, limp and drunk. The world spun in front on him and he wrenched his eyes shut, trying to focus on the feeling on his feet firmly on the ground. “Stand up straight, shh,” Stan said, his voice soft. He rubbed the tips of his fingers against Eddie’s temples, working down to his jaw and back up. Eddie whimpered but relaxed. Stan’s touch grounded him and made him feel still. 

“Richie’s going to be mad at me,” Eddie whispered and Stan actually laughed, a full, throaty sound that made Eddie want to laugh too.

“Uh, no, I’m pretty sure that Richie literally kisses the ground you walk on. He won’t be mad. He’ll probably be proud of you for getting so drunk all on your own, come to think of it.”

“That helps,” Eddie said. He opened his eyes and swallowed, looking up at Stan. “Hey,” he tugged on the front of Stan’s polo. “I promise not to tell anybody that you’re such a good friend.”

Stan laughed again. “It’ll ruin my reputation if you do. I appreciate the discretion.” He leaned down and kissed Eddie’s cheek. Eddie hummed and wobbled, kissing Stan back on the chin. 

“Let’s go back up front,” Stan said. “Here,” Eddie kept a firm hold on Stan’s shirt as they walked to the front side of the bar, stumbling more than once. “More fresh air and you can still listen to Richie.”

“He looks so fucking good on stage,” Eddie smiled. “So handsome. I’m so lucky.”

“I think _he’s_ the lucky one.”

“No!” Eddie exclaimed. He grabbed Stan’s shoulders. “NO. I am. He’s--” Eddie hiccupped and continued, undaunted. “He’s amazing. He’s driven and talented and smart, even though he pretends not to be all of those things, he _is_ all of those things. And more! He’s so much more.” 

“You’d never say all of this sappy shit sober,” Stan grinned. He pushed Eddie’s hair back. “Before you guys got together I never knew if you wanted to fuck him or if you wanted to be him.”

“Both, really,” Eddie said. “He’s just….he’s effortless. Everything he does comes so easy to him.”

“Like annoying people?”

“You love him,” Eddie said seriously. “Everybody can tell.”

“I do not.”

“You do so.”

Stan sighed and rolled his eyes. A blush tinted his nose and the tips of his ears. “Yeah, whatever. If you never tell him, I’ll never repeat anything you say when you’re drunk. Deal?”

“Perfecto!” Eddie shook Stan’s hand. “Hey,” he said, looking past Stan’s shoulder. “Isn’t that the guy from earlier? The one who knocked you down?”

“Hm?” Stan looked. “Oh yeah, Ignore him. Fuck that guy.”

“Fuck you too, bitch,” the brunette yelled, flipping Stan off. He was standing at the edge of the parking lot at the other side of the building with a thin slip of a girl, and a tall, weedy bald guy. “Take your boyfriend and get the fuck out of here, why doncha?” 

“Fuck him?” Eddie said. “Fuck YOU. Richie sounds way better than you ever could.”

“Probably,” Stan amended. “I mean, you’ve never actually heard him.”

“Yeah, fuckin’ probably.” Eddie agreed, stern. 

“David, let’s just go--“

“What the fuck did you say to me?” The man growled and pushed over, ignoring his companion’s protests. In the background, Richie could be heard crooning out something by The Smiths. “You wanna fucking go again, you little shit?”

“We haven’t even gone once, fuckface,” Eddie snarled. He stepped up to David, chin jutted out, neck craned up to scowl at the much larger man. “No wonder they fired you, you’re dumb as a box of rocks and twice as useless.”

“Eddie--“

“Not now Stan.”

“Yeah, _not now Stan_ ,” David mimicked in a falsetto impression of Eddie. “You have something you want to say to me, little man? Then say it.”

“I think you fucking suck,” Eddie hissed. “In fact, I haven’t even heard you and I know you fucking suck. I know it, actually, because your mom told me last night when my boyfriend and I were fucking her _brains_ out.” Stan sighed heavily behind him. 

“Tell you what,” David said. His mouth was pulled back in a grimace, rage evident in the clench of his teeth. “Why don’t you run that little ass inside, okay? You get that faggot off _my_ stage, you get your boyfriend the fuck out of here, and I’ll deal with my former friends in there, okay? In fact,” David leaned in, eyes glinting darkly. “You take all of your friends, those gay fucks and the redheaded _slut_ and that fucking black _ni_ \--“

WHAM; Eddie punched David in the face, as hard as he could, without a single second of hesitation. “You MOTHERFUCKER!” he screamed. David staggered back, blinking, his lip split, and Eddie was on him again, throwing his fist forward and connecting with a satisfying crack, unable to feel the instant ache in his hand behind the roaring of his own heart pounding in his ears and Stan’s shout behind him. “You piece of FUCKING TRASH--“

 _CRACK!_ Dave dipped under Eddie’s fist and hit him in the nose. Eddie felt searing pain shoot through his head and he stumbled back, off balance, and Dave hit him again in the stomach and Eddie grunted, falling backwards. He heard Stan shout his name, his running footfalls, but he crumpled to the pavement and hit his head, and he knew nothing else after that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that you don't all resent me TOO bad for my very first cliffhanger.
> 
> Thank you all again as ALWAYS for your love and support! I couldn't do this without it, it means the whole world and then some to me.
> 
> Next bit's coming up soon, as always.
> 
> xoxoxoxo  
> waxagent


	4. Love My Way

Eddie blinked awake, and it felt like wrenching his eyes open after thirty years of solid sleep. “Wha--“ He choked and held his stomach, sputtering past the river of blood the dribbled down over his lips and chin. “Oh, _fuck_ \--“

“Eddie,” Bev shook his shoulders. Her pale face was a bright, shining ray of panic against the late evening sky. “ _Eddie_ , oh thank God.”

“What,” Eddie said, cutting himself off with a low groan. “Whahuu-“

“Don’t, don’t,” Beverly shushed him. She ushered Eddie up into a sitting position half against her lap and cupped the side of his face with one shaking hand. “That asshole knocked you out and Stan charged him, and he hit Stan and then he ran off, that fucker ran off and Richie and the bassist, Jesse? They’re chasing him and I don’t know where they _are_. He got a few good ones on Stan first, knocked out a tooth or something, Mike and Bill are taking care of him and Ben’s on the phone with the cops.” She said this all in a wild rush and Eddie blinked up at her, dazed.

“But…Richie’s on stage,” Eddie said. He was dizzy and every word cost him a tremendous effort, like speaking through a wall of wet cotton. 

“They stopped the set when they heard you fighting,” Bev said softly. She brushed several strands of hair off of Eddie’s forehead. 

“Do I look bad?”

“I mean, you’ve looked better.”

“You should see the other guy,” Eddie wheezed with a grin and Bev laughed, startled. She sobered quickly.

“Richie’s gonna kill him,” she said. “If he can catch him. I’ve never seen anything like when we saw you--” She swallowed thickly and started to cry. “Eddie, I thought you were dead.”

“I’m not dead, Bevvie.”

“Your head was in a puddle of blood!”

“A very small puddle.”

“Don’t be so much like your boyfriend right now, you can’t joke your way out of this,” Eddie sat up a little more and clutched at his his head. It throbbed in a dull, low ache, belaying the sharp and constant pain in his nose. “I got to you first and Richie just charged the guy. Ben,” Bev looked up. “Babe, what’d they say?”

“Hey Benny,” Eddie mumbled.

“Hi there,” Eddie could hear jogging footfalls. Ben appeared in his line of vision, his pace tight and stressed. “They’re sending an ambulance. Stan’s not doing great; his tooth cut through his lip and they can’t get him to calm down. They can’t stop the bleeding.”

“He’ll be fine,” Beverly said quickly. “Face wounds, head wounds, they hurt and they bleed like fuck, but they’re mostly superficial.”

“Oh, it’s my fault. I have to go help,” Eddie stood and wobbled alarmingly, pitching forward.

“Woah, woah,” Ben grunted. He caught Eddie and turned him in his arms in one fluid motion so that Eddie was facing right side up. The stars in the sky twisted and turned, and Eddie clamped a hand down over his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut. 

“Eddie!” He heard a thin scream and then he went under again, dipping below the black waves of unconscious sleep.

* * *

Eddie woke with a gasp, his right hand swathed in thick bandages, when somebody grabbed his head. He was moving while laying still- _ambulance_ \- and when he looked up, he was staring into the disconcertingly serene face of a paramedic. 

“I’m going to set your nose, okay?” The man said gently and Eddie reeled back, pissed and scared.

“Don’t you _fucking touch me_ \--“ He hissed, put the paramedic ignored him, held his head still, and snapped his nose back with a quick, efficient _pop_.

He passed out again. 

* * *

_He’s with Richie in the tall grass and they’re laughing. Richie has blue flowers tucked into the corner of his glasses and he smiles at Eddie like he hung the moon and stars, flopped on his back, singing in a wordless stream of sweet sound._

_Eddie hums along, his hands aching to touch every inch of Richie, to engage him in anyway that he can, to love him for as long as he can. He reaches out and gains no ground. He frowns and tries again. Nothing._

_He looks down to his left arm- or, more accurately, where his left arm would have been. There’s only clean, open space; his whole limb is gone._

_“That’s okay, sweetpea,” Richie coos. He grins and there is blood on his teeth. “You probably shouldn’t touch anyway. You hate blood.” Richie lifts his shirt; there is a bottomless pit of black and red there. Eddie can see Richie’s ribs and his lungs and his heart, beating wildly. He chokes out a gasp and falls back, and Richie turns to look at him. His expression is dark and hungry oh god he’s so hungry--_

_“I would hate,” Not-Richie says, blood sloshing in a stream past his full lips. “for you to get sick, Eddie.”_

_“No,” Eddie gasps, but Not-Richie reaches out and seizes him and Eddie kicks at him and screams, no use when he can see Richie’s heart racing a thump thump thump thump behind which hid three yellow lights and when he looked at them he was scared, so scared--_

“Eddie. Eddie, baby, wake up.”

_Not-Richie whips around and looks and Eddie kicks free, kicks away, crawls up and starts to run--_

 

The next time that Eddie came to he was lying in a hospital bed, in his normal clothing, covered in dried blood. Richie was with him. He sat on a tiny chair right beside his cot, Eddie’s unbandaged hand clasped in both of his own. “Hey baby,” Richie whispered. His voice was hoarse and he had a long, neatly stitched cut above the corner of his right eyebrow. The lenses of his new glasses were heartbreakingly cracked. 

“Richie,” Eddie rolled over, smiling softly. His head felt fuzzy and warm. “You were calling my name.”

“Hm?”

“Just now, I heard you. You _saved_ me.”

“Not hardly, honey. I was just trying to wake you up,” Richie rubbed Eddie’s hand. The knuckles of the taller man’s left hand are red and split, and two of them looked particularly swollen.

“Your beautiful hands,” Eddie groaned. 

Richie chuckled. “They’ll heal up. I’m very durable.”

“M’ head is hot.”

“You’ve got about five pounds of gauze on it, yeah,” Richie smiled weakly. “You’ve gotta be feeling good. They put you on some premium shit, Eds.”

“I feel fine,” Eddie said blearily. He brought Richie’s hands up to his mouth and kissed over his raw, scraped knuckles. “You get ‘im?”

“Got him. He’s singing five octaves higher from now on. Who fucked up his face like that?”

“Me.”

“My boy,” Richie murmured. He scooted as close as he could get and Eddie looked up at him, awestruck. “Eddie ‘Tough Shit’ Kaspbrak.”

“Don’t wear it out,” Eddie grinned. Richie laughed and took a hand back from Eddie. He covered his eyes underneath his broken glasses, then, his shoulders shaking. “No,” Eddie whispered. He kissed Richie’s hand again. 

“Shut up, Eds, I was terrified,” Richie swallowed, wiping his red rimmed eyes. “You idiot. You’ve never hit anybody before.”

“I’ve hit you before.”

“Hand jobs don’t count,” Richie said. He sniffled. “You’re a fucking moron.”

“Beep, beep.”

“You have lost all beeping privileges until we get to Seattle.” 

“C’mere,” Eddie moved back on the hospital cot, patting the bed beside him. Richie moved to his side immediately, picking Eddie up and holding him in his lap. He buried his face in Eddie’s neck, trembling. “Read me the verdict, ‘Chee.”

“Concussion,” Richie whispered against his neck. “Broken nose. You bit your tongue pretty good too, on the way down. A fractured knuckle--” Unable to continue, he buried his face deeper against Eddie, and Eddie felt his shirt collar, stiff with dried blood, go damp.

“So, I’m fine,” Eddie soothed. He ran his uninjured hand back through Richie’s wild hair. “Baby, Richie,” Richie lifted his tear streaked face. “’Chee,” Eddie repeated, kissing him and wiped his cheeks with the back of his fingers. 

“I’m sorry,” Richie whispered. “I’m so fucking sorry, Eddie.”

“Shhh,” Eddie murmured against Richie’s trembling lips. “Please, don’t. Hey,” He nudged Richie’s chin up. “You sounded amazing tonight. Your voice, your playing. I was blown away by you.”

Richie let a small smile leak through. “Thanks. It was fun.” He licked Eddie’s bottom lip and Eddie melted, letting his eyes close while Richie kissed him, deep and slow. “I would lose my mind if anything happened to you,” Richie said. His eyes were closed, and his lashes were damp.

Eddie nodded, suddenly not trusting himself to speak without bursting into tears himself. “Rich--“

“H-Hi,” a tentative voice said. Richie and Eddie turned; Bill stood in the door. He looked exhausted, drawn and grey around the edges. “Glad y-you’re awake.”

“Bill,” Eddie exhaled. He opened his arms and Bill was there in two seconds, hugging him gently, Richie caught comfortably in the middle of their embrace. “How’s Stan?”

“He’s f-fine, they s-s-stitched his lip,” Bill winced as he looked Eddie over. “His t-tooth is ch-chipped, but that’s e-e-easy to fix. How d-d’you feel?”

“I’m okay,” Eddie said, smiling wanly. 

“The b-band is w-w-w-w-- _fuck_.” Bill scrubbed a hand over his face. Richie reached over and squeezed Bill’s hip. 

“Long night,” Eddie said. “Take your time.”

“The b-band,” Bill said. “They’re outside.”

“What?” Richie furrowed his brows. “Why?” 

“D-Dunno.”

“I’ll go,” Richie said. He cupped Eddie’s face with both hands, staring into his eyes. “You okay?” Eddie nodded. “You sure?” He nodded again. Richie kissed him gently and shifted off of the hospital bed. “Hang on, my dudes.” He walked outside, leaving the door ajar behind him.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie looked up at Bill and Bill looked down at him in kind, confused. 

“Wh-Why?”

“Stan only got involved because I hit that douchecanoe first. I should’ve--“

“Shut up,” Bill said venemously. Eddie closed his mouth with an audible click, eyes wide. “St-Stan told me everything that he s-s-said. I w-wish I’d gone with R-Richie. I wish I’d k- _killed_ that fucker. Myself. W-With my own t-two hands.”

“O-Oh.”

“We are on y-your s-side,” Bill said. He took Eddie’s hand loosely. “You d-didn’t punch Stan. Y-You d-didn’t c-c-call M-Mike a--“

“Don’t,” Eddie said. His eyes were burning. 

Bill pursed his lips. “W-we love y-you,” He said after a moment, tone soft. “A-and I would have b-been the one to throw the first f-fucking punch if it had b-been me there instead.”

“Oh,” Bill was still glaring at him and Eddie felt his ears heat up underneath his bandages. “Thank…you?”

“You’re d-d-damn fucking sk-skippy,” Bill said with one curt nod.

* * *

“Alright,” Jesse said. He put the van in park and turned around. All seven Losers were piled into the back of his little tour bus, peaked and weary. Eddie was bundled into Richie’s lap, slipping in and out of a thin, unsatisfying sleep.

“Wakey, wakey,” Richie mumbled, poking Eddie’s cheek. Eddie swatted at him. 

“G’way.”

“No, no, no,” Richie inched out of the van, carrying Eddie in his arms. “Probably never again, honestly, if this is what happens when I leave.” He walked around to the driver’s side door where Jesse was sitting; his long legs branched out like tree trunks. “So,” he said, looking at Jesse, a wry grin on his lips. “Thanks, and sorry again, in that order.”

Jesse waved. “Nah, man. You were great.”

“You were better than Dickbag Dave,” the girl in the passenger seat added. Eddie blinked owlishly and looked; she was tall and broad, with dark olive skin and a bright blue Mohawk. 

“Who’re you?”

“Lettie,” she said, kindly. Her bottom lip was pierced in three places. “The drummer. We met at the emergency room. Your boyfriend has serious talent.”

Eddie smiled and rested his cheek on Richie’s shoulder. “I love your hair.”

“Oh my God, aren’t you a little cutie pie?” Lettie laughed.

“Well, Dickbag Dave won’t bother you again,” Richie said cheerily. “Mostly because he’s probably still looking for all of the teeth I knocked out of his fucking skull.”

“Yeah, you fight good for a beanpole,” Jesse grinned. He leaned forward, resting his forearms onto his knees, and looked Richie up and down. His clear blue eyes were calculating. 

Richie smiled back. He shifted Eddie in his arms. “Nobody hurts my dude.” 

“I feel like if somebody punched him in front of me…” Lettie squinted and nodded. She leaned forward and settled her head against Jesse’s. “Yeah, I can see it, I’d go apeshit. He has ‘must be protected’ written over him in neon.” Richie nodded feverishly. 

“So you said backstage that you’re going to Seattle?” Jesse asked. Lettie looked at him with raised brows and he looked back. A question passed between them, unsaid, and she nodded once.

“Mmhm, for college,” Richie said. 

Lettie grimaced. “College. It’s for squares.”

“College is for handsome intellectuals,” Eddie mumbled, and Richie laughed, kissing him sweetly. “I love handsome intellectuals.” 

“Oh, well then, buckle in, baby--“

Jesse waved a hand, laughing. “Seriously. We’re from a few miles north of Tacoma. And…we’re looking for a new lead singer, and maybe--“

“A killer guitar player,” Lettie added, grinning. “With a profoundly good left hook.”

“I’ve always kind of felt like once you stomp an asshole into the dirt together, you’re bonded for life,” Jesse said, looking back at Lettie. She nodded again, a bright smile blossoming over her features.

“Seriously?” Richie beamed. “I mean, fuck yeah, is…Tacoma, is that close to Seattle?”

“Bout an hour out. Less, where we live.”

“Well….I mean, fuck yeah--“

“He’s in, obviously.”

“Eddie, baby, I just agreed--“

“Hey!” Eddie picked his head up and swiveled around. He met Jesse’s eyes, frowning. “You said mint. Pristine.”

“What?” Jesse blinked.

“Lookat ‘im,” Eddie slurred. “Stitches, broke glasses. Not pristine condition.”

“Shh, babe,” Richie said. He rubbed the back of Eddie’s neck and Eddie’s eyelids drooped instantly. He mumbled a string of nonsense and nuzzled into Richie’s neck. 

“He’s on some high octane painkillers,” Richie smiled. He reached out and shook Jesse’s hand firmly, then Lettie’s. “See you guys soon, yeah?”

“Yeah,” they agreed in unison. 

“Here, hang on,” Lettie ducked back into their van and rummaged. She poked her hand back out with a business card. “That’s us. It’s a number just for the band. So call when you get settled in and when we get back from tour we’ll jam.”

“Awesome,” Richie beamed. He took the card and very gently slotted it into his front pocket. “I’m fucking stoked, guys. _Thank you_.”

“No sweatski,” Jesse said. He grunted, folding his body back into the driver’s seat. He was mountainously huge, all crunched into his van like it was a clown car. It made Eddie giggle. “Laters!”

“Bye!” Eddie waved.

“Come on, sweetpea,” Richie said softly. While Jesse and Lettie arduously began the process of backing out of the tight driveway in front of the cabin, Richie carried Eddie inside. He walked through the cabin and into their room, shutting the door behind them. 

“’Chee,” Eddie moaned. Richie laid him down flat on his back on their mattress. “Richie, m’head hurts.”

“I know, baby,” Richie soothed. “I know.” He took Eddie’s sneakers and socks off, and then his shorts. “Sit up real quick, let me get your shirt.”

“No.”

Richie laughed. “Eds, come on,” he guided Eddie to a seated position. Eddie grumbled, brows furrowed, and raised his arms. Richie took off his shirt and tossed it aside. “Okay, you can lay back.” He stood and stripped off his own shirt. He paused at the buckle of his belt, the moment of a brilliant idea scattering across his face. “Hang on,” he said. “Be right back.” He darted out of the room, leaving the door only slightly cracked.

Eddie hummed an agreement, slowly moving onto his back. The room spun lazily around him, but he felt cool and relaxed and careless. He flexed his fingers and toes and let his eyes drift shut.

After a moment, he heard the door click. “Egg timer,” he heard Richie’s voice. “Saw it in the kitchen. Gotta wake you every hour, make sure your brains aren’t scrambled eggs.”

“Egg timer for eggs,” Eddie said thickly. Richie chuckled.

Eddie felt the bed dip, and then Richie’s hands were on him- stroking his hair and his stomach, rubbing his hip, holding his hands and lacing their fingers. “How’re you holding up?”

“Dizzy,” Eddie sighed. “Feels good, you feel good.” 

“Mmm,” Richie kissed Eddie’s forehead. He lingered there and Eddie blearily opened his eyes; Richie’s glasses were off and his hair was pulled back in a loose bun. He had taken off his jeans. They laid there together, caught up in the tenderness of the moment. Eddie tilted his head up and Richie kissed his lips. 

“Can I get you anything?” Richie asked. 

Eddie furrowed his brow. “Y’know,” he said, rubbing Richie’s chest. “I just realized. Only just got it. I’ve never sucked you off, not once.”

Richie paused, blinking, and then let out a sharp bark of laughter. “No,” he grinned. “No, you never have.”

“Why?”

“Dunno. You can figure it out some other time.”

“Can I?” Eddie asked. His hands stumbled downwards, stroking over Richie’s stomach, and then his hipbones. “Right now?”

“No,” Richie said. His voice was a soft reassurance. He took Eddie’s wandering hands and brought them up to his lips. “Not right now, Eds.” 

“What if,” Eddie began, and then he stopped. Richie was looking at him and Eddie was lost, suddenly, marveling at how his boyfriend’s eyes looked; brown, flecks of gold and honey, ablaze in the filtered sunlight of their room. “Wow.”

“What?”

“No, nothing,” Eddie smiled. “D’you think…you’ll ever leave me?”

“ _What_?”

“For somebody that would blow you sooner. Someone else.”

“Eddie,” Richie said. He pulled Eddie in close. “After you, there’s nobody else for me.” 

Eddie felt his heart race, clearheadedness jogging him through the thick fugue of his painkillers. “Me too,” he whispered, looking up at Richie. “You too.”

“I know,” Richie assured him. He rubbing his fingers up Eddie’s jawline and kissed him, nothing more physical than a simple press of their lips. “Go to sleep. I’ll see you in an hour.”

“I love you, Trashmouth.”

Richie laughed. “Uncalled for,” he said. “But I love you too.”

* * *

Eddie slept in fitful increments throughout the day. Richie was up with him at every hour. He fed Eddie pieces of dry toast and water, broth, and one half dose of his painkillers. He rubbed Eddie’s back and his neck, and kissed his cheeks and fingertips. 

Halfway through the day, Richie brought a damp towel in. “Up you get, sweetheart,” he’d murmured. Eddie groaned, bleary and exhausted, and let Richie stand him up. He wiped Eddie down all over his body, following the gentle strokes of his hands with a barrage of gentle, pecking kisses. He laid Eddie back down afterwards; kissing all over his face and chest, and tucked him underneath their sleeping bag; Eddie had never felt closer to him.

“Ginger ale or water,” Richie asked, cupping Eddie’s cheek. 

“Just sleep?” Eddie croaked, looking up at his boyfriend. He took Richie’s hand.

“Just sleep,” Richie agreed with a smile, and he stroked Eddie’s fingers in his own until Eddie fell into a gentle lull of rest.

By the following morning, Eddie felt better by leaps and bounds. He sat up in the empty bed and rubbed the side of his neck. The pain in his head had diminished somewhat; it had become a dull, nascent throb, timed out with the rhythm of his heartbeats. 

He got up slowly, testing the steadiness of his feet beneath him on the bare wood floors of the cabin. His heart gave a longing thump when he saw that Richie had stowed away their bloody clothes from the bar fight, and had laid out a white t-shirt, jean shorts, and new underwear for Eddie. His sandals sat close by, and glass of water laid waiting for him on the nightstand with two aspirin. 

Eddie dressed stiffly. Before he left, he dug into his backpack in the corner of the room; he pocketed his inhaler, and carefully set Richie’s contacts and solution on the nightstand. 

He walked out into the hallway, down two doors, and into the very cramped bathroom. He closed the door, turned on the light and winced at his reflection; his swollen nose was butterfly bandaged straight and he had a nice, healthy fat lip. A crescent smudge of a bruise stood starkly against his skin, underneath his right eye. With steady hands, he started unwinding the gauze from around his head, wincing a little as it stuck to the tacky skin around his injury. His stomach dropped; his wavy, thick brown hair had been shorn off in clumps on the left side of his head so that his wound could be stitched. 

“Ah, fuck,” Eddie groaned. The stitches themselves didn’t look too bad- a nice, even little row of eight, stark against the pale skin of his scalp, but his hair was an unsalvageable mess.

When he walked into the open kitchen, he saw Ben, Bev, and Richie. They were drinking coffee, seated at the bar countertop, with a substantially tucked into bottle of vodka being passed between them. Eddie watched Richie pour a solid two shots into his coffee and he frowned, reminded, suddenly, of Maggie Tozier, and how she’d been doing the same thing every morning for as long as Eddie had known her son.

“Hey,” he said, softly. Richie was on his feet instantly, and Eddie just fell into his arms. 

“Morning,” Richie said. “You okay?”

“Much better, Richie,” Eddie said. “Thanks.” Richie smiled and delicately kissed his forehead.

He grimaced, then, piecing through Eddie’s hair with delicate fingers. “Boy, they really went at you with a weed whacker, huh?”

“Thanks, Rich,” Eddie said drily. 

“You’re still handsome! You just, you know. The hair thing.”

“ _Thanks_.”

“It’s just hair, and it grows back.” Ben said, smiling softly. He stood up and went to the fridge. “Juice, Eddie?”

“Water, Ben, thank you so much.”

“No problem,” Ben whistled, filling a plastic cup with water from the sink. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better,” Eddie smiled. “Thanks.”

“I’m in mourning,” Richie said. He pouted at Eddie. “All that hair, _gone_.”

“Richard,” Eddie hissed. “I know it’s fucking gone. You’re not helping.”

“I might have a solution to this,” Bev smiled, drinking deep from her coffee mug. “Ben, where are your clippers?”

“In my bag in our room,” Ben said. 

“Right, awesome. Eddie, come with me. Rich, drink your coffee.” Bev hopped out of her seat and took Eddie’s hand. She led him back into the hallway and into the upstairs loft where she and Ben had been sleeping; it was bright and lovely, with one of Bev’s thin sun dresses laid out over a wooden chair, and an outfit of Ben’s folded on the seat below. “Should be right here,” Bev said. She moved their clothes lightly away from the chair and rummaged through a small black bag, passing a toothbrush and comb, before pulling away with her prize; a shiny black beard trimmer. “Alright, Eddie, sit down. Let’s even you up.”

Eddie swallowed hard and sat. He looked back over at Bev. “You’ve…you’ve done this before?”

“Sure, I cut my own hair all of the time.”

“Okay,” Eddie grimaced. “Just…be careful around the stitches?”

“There’s barely anything to cut there anyway,” Bev hummed. Eddie heard her rummage for an outlet for a second and then the gentle, buzzing whir of the clippers filled his ears. “Short on the sides and we’ll keep some length up top? But we’re going to have to go pretty short, two inches, so you don’t look crazy.” Eddie nodded and Bev instantly stilled his head with a gentle touch. “Okay, so, do NOT move your head. And relax. It’ll be over before you know it.”

Eddie felt the clippers graze against the unwounded skin on the right side of his head, his heart rate picking up nervously. He sat stone still, barely fidgeting and saying nothing, and watched thick brown chunks of hair flutter to the floor around him. Bev was careful and gentle, and assured him over and over that he’d love it. “You will,” she said. “It’ll be a whole new look for a whole new, badass you.”

“Well,” Eddie said. “I’m not exactly looking to run into another fight.”

“If a fight finds you, then,” Bev giggled. She turned off her shears and stood back. Eddie looked at her and she grinned back at him. “My finest work. Eddie. You look _good_. Here,” she reached into the pocket of her overalls and pulled out a small compact, handing it over. 

Eddie gave himself a quick look in the little mirror, his eyes wide. “Holy shit, Bevvie. Looks like a real haircut.”

“Not those little preppy trims your mom made you get,” Bev said. “And not your ‘I’m rebelling against hair cuts’ look, either. You look amazing.”

“Thank you,” Eddie said. He stood and hugged Beverly and she hugged him back, tucking her face against his jaw. 

“No problem. You’d do the same for me.”

“No, but I’d make Richie cut your hair if you needed it.”

Bev laughed. “If you think I want Richie near my head with anything sharp you knocked more than one screw loose when you hit your head.”

“Bev,” Ben said. He nudged the door open with his foot, his hands occupied with two steaming mugs. “Brought you another-- hey. Wow,” Ben beamed at Eddie. “You look great, tiger.”

Eddie smiled widely, blushing. “I’d look really great if I could grow a beard as nice as yours.”

“That’s an unparalleled gift,” Bev said knowingly. She took her offered coffee from Ben and kissed him gently. “Go show Richie! I’m dying of anticipation.” She and Ben kissed again and after Eddie left, Ben nudged the door shut behind him with a grin. 

Eddie shook his head with a laugh and jogged down the stairs. He turned back into the kitchen with a nervous smile. “Rich?” 

Richie looked up from his coffee. His eyes widened behind his cracked glasses. “Holy shit, yeah, lots of thoughts,” he breathed. Eddie walked over to him and Richie rested his hands on his boyfriend’s hips. “God dammit Eddie, who gets their head bashed in and comes out looking _hotter_ , Christ. It’s pretty rude of you.”

Eddie grinned, bowing his head. “Quit it.” 

“No, I’m serious,” Richie tugged Eddie closer, pressing a firm kiss to the side of his neck. “I’m gonna nut if I have to look at that gorgeous face and that perfect hair, _fuck_ , is Beverly trying to kill me?” He kissed Eddie again. “You look smoking hot, baby,” he murmured in Eddie’s ear. 

“You’re pouring in on a little thick, babe.”

“You don’t believe me?” He felt Richie grin against his cheek. “Gimme your hand, and I’ll show you how thick your hair is making me.”

“You don’t get to talk about how hot other people’s hair is. Look at yours.”

Richie tilted his head back, eye level with Eddie. “Want me to get a cut?” He asked seriously. “Solidarity?”

“ _No_ ,” Eddie insisted. He kissed Richie’s mouth gently. “But thank you, Rich. For everything.”

“You don’t have to thank me. In fact, don’t. I’m gonna have to beat other guys away from you with a baseball bat.”

“No, and don’t do that. For taking care of me,” Eddie kissed Richie again. He settled his hands on the taller man’s hips and Richie pulled him closer with his legs. With Richie seated and Eddie standing they were roughly the same height, a totally new experience. “Mmm,” Eddie sucked on Richie’s bottom lip, looking directly at him. “Thank you.”

“Shut up,” Richie grinned. He rubbed the short strands of hair at the base of Eddie’s neck. “God, you look so fucking fuckable. I could cry.” 

Eddie blushed, stepping even closer between Richie’s legs. “Fuckable?” He kissed Richie, surprising himself a little with the latent hunger in his action. “Put your legs a little higher,” he whispered against Richie’s lips. Richie smirked and obliged, raising his legs up to wrap around Eddie’s waist. 

“Good to know you wake up horny even when you have a head injury,” Richie said. He tilted his head to the side and Eddie kissed his neck, sucking at a spot just under his ear. “Ahh,” Richie sighed, laying his hands on Eddie’s shoulders. “Eddie,” he pushed back, gently. “Slow it down just a little, baby. You got really hurt yesterday.”

Eddie frowned. “Richie. I’m fine.”

“All due respect, babes, you aren’t. How’s your head?”

“Fuck my head, Richie,” Eddie scowled, straightening up. He crossed his arms. “I’m okay. I’m not glass.”

Richie frowned, straightening his cracked glasses. “I took care of you for hours yesterday, there’s no way you’re all better.” He stroked the back of his knuckles over Eddie’s collarbone. Eddie swatted his hand away. “Hey, come on now.”

“No, Richie,” Eddie crossed his arms. “You don’t just get to treat me like a baby; I’m older than you. I know my own body _better_ than you do.”

Richie stood, putting his hands on his hips. “Well maybe you can accept that thinking of you bleeding on the ground less than twenty-four hours ago just doesn’t _turn me on_ , Eddie.”

Eddie scoffed. “Are you fucking serious?”

“Yeah, for once, I’m being fucking serious.”

“Fuck you, Rich,” Eddie seethed. He backed away from Richie, his face pinched, suddenly furious.

“Fuck me, are you fucking serious Eddie?” Richie swore, brushing past his boyfriend, mug in hand. “Jesus _Christ_ , the first time I _ever_ turn you down, you have a fucking temper tantrum.” He slammed his mug onto the counter and poured himself another cup of coffee.

“I’m FINE. I’m right here in front of you, telling you that I’m okay! You just don’t get to erase my opinion and rewrite it with you own. We don’t have to have sex if you don’t want to, Jesus, but don’t make it about my issues when it’s about _you_.”

“Are you saying that I have issues?” Richie laughed harshly. “Because I don’t want to fuck right now, is that what you’re fucking saying?”

“No, but you don’t get to disregard my opinion! After Victor Criss worked you over, I _trusted_ your opinion of your body and you were WAY more injured than I am, I screwed you in the shower, even though I didn’t want to--“

“Well look at you!” Richie shouted, face red. “You deserve a medal for fucking me in the shower when you so obviously _didn’t_ want to!” He grabbed his coffee and stormed to the front door. “I’m allowed to feel whatever way I want, too. You know what? Fuck you too, Eds!” He stomped outside, slamming the front door behind him. 

Eddie stood in the middle of the kitchen, fists clenched at his side, chest heaving. He head throbbed with a dull, relentless pressure, and his face felt scalding hot. “Shit,” he hissed. He turned around with gusto and slammed his hip into the counter, swearing up a blue streak. “Shit, fucking cunt, _shit_.”

* * *

“You and Richie avoiding each other is giving me heartburn,” Mike said. It was lunchtime and the group had split down the middle; in the kitchen, Eddie sat with Mike, Bill, and a very hazy Stan. Richie, Ben and Beverly were outside. Richie hadn’t come back inside since their shouting match earlier that morning, and Eddie had adamantly not gone looking for him. 

“Yeah, well, nobody asked you to pay attention,” Eddie grumbled, viciously biting into his hot dog. He was eating clumsily with his left hand; his heavily bandages right hand stayed tense in his lap.

“We really can’t i-ignore it. Richie’s outside moping in the rain, you’re mop-moping around in here,” Bill said, his tone a little sour. He brushed back Stan’s hair absently and Mike gently kissed his cheek.

“Why don’t we just agree,” Mike said softly, his nose pressed to Bill’s cheek. “That it’s been a rough couple of days, and we’re all a little on edge.” Bill sighed and rubbed a hand over his face.

“S-sorry,” He said. Mike kissed his cheek. “Stan, up f-for lunch?”

“I should eat, right?” Stan sighed, leaning his head forward on Bill’s shoulder. “My whole face just hurts, a lot.”

“I can drive into town and get you soup,” Mike suggested. Stan looked up over Bill’s shoulder and Mike leaned in and kissed his temple. “Something easy to eat?”

“Jello?” Bill suggested. “Or ice c-cream?” Stan smiled at his boyfriends and they smiled back, la di dah, and Eddie ripped his hotdog in half, shoving a bite sullenly into his mouth. 

“Bad weather out,” Stan said, and it was true. Wind was howling through the cracks in the walls and the seams of the windows. “It’s gonna rain and these roads are so steep, don’t risk it. Can we just share your salad, Mike? Is there enough?”

“Hell yeah,” Mike smiled. “Anything else you need?”

Eddie sighed loudly, mushing up his bread between his fingers. 

“I’m s-sorry,” Bill said loudly. “Are we _bothering_ you, Eddie?”

“No, not at all,” Eddie said brightly. “You’re just all so cute, that’s all. So sweet. I have a damn cavity.”

Stan rolled his eyes. “You’re such a princess when you’re mad.”

Eddie flushed. “Shut up, Stan.”

“Hey now,” Mike said. “Let’s not go saying things we’ll regret later in a better mood.”

“Sorry Mike!” Eddie chirped. “If I hurt your feelings, maybe that hot bartender from last night can come and fix my fuck up, okay? Missy, right--“

“Uncalled for,” Bill interrupted, harsh. His sharp blue eyes were narrowed in a glare. “A-apologize.”

Eddie glared back, but the earth underneath him seemed shaky. He had _never_ been on the receiving end of a look from Bill like this before and it quailed him, made him feel small. He remembered, suddenly and sharply, that this was _Big Bill Denbrough_ ; he was their leader and his word was tantamount to law.

“Say you’re s-sorry,” Bill said.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie sighed. “I’m _sorry_ , Mike.”

“You’re nasty when you’re mad,” Bill said. “You get pissy and b-bitchy and, frankly, I’m not here for it today. Go lash out s-somewhere else.”

Eddie felt his ears burn. Embarrassed, he stood up and turned on his heel, storming into the sitting room. The front door opened and Richie walked in, face and hair wet; it must have been raining. 

They both stopped and stared at each other, caught. Richie’s eyes were hard and sad, and Eddie felt his chest contract.

“I’m sorry,” Richie gritted out suddenly. “Because you are a grown ass man, and you can make your own stupid, grown ass decisions.”

“Well, I’m fucking _sorry_ that I ignored your feelings. Just because I want to, doesn’t mean that you do,” Eddie said sourly. 

Richie looked up at him and nodded, and then looked away with a grunt. “Sorry I didn’t listen,” He added, kicking aimlessly at the floor. “You know yourself better than me, you’re right. You know enough to know if you’re feeling okay or not.” 

“I’m sorry, too,” Eddie glared. “Because you were worried. And because I implied that I didn’t want you to fuck me in the shower, and that is the opposite of how I felt when that happened. I still think it’s the hottest fucking thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Good.”

“Yeah, well, fucking _great_ ,” Eddie crossed his arms. 

“Is this even a real apology?” Stan asked, audible from the kitchen. 

“Shhh,” Bill and Mike said, in unison. 

Eddie and Richie glared daggers at each other for a moment longer, but it was Richie that softened first. He sighed and took one step forward and the dam between them broke; Eddie rushed in and Richie grabbed him tightly, hauling him up into his arms in one clean, fluid motion. They kissed, Richie’s hands hard on Eddie’s back and Eddie’s fingers yanking at Richie’s hair. 

“Fuck,” Richie hissed. Eddie let go, dropped back down to his feet, and shoved him down the hall. They were a whirlwind into their room, in each other’s arms instantly. Richie kicked the door shut behind them and Eddie pushed Richie down onto the bed. “Jesus, Eddie.” 

“Shut the fuck up,” Eddie climbed onto Richie’s lap and Richie rushed up, desperate in his kisses. “God, Richie,” he groaned. Richie’s long hands found his hips and his ass, groping him, yanking him closer. 

“Eds,” Richie whispered against Edie’s lips. “I’m _sorry_.”

“I know,” Eddie said, brows furrowed. “Me too, fuck, I’m so sorry, ‘Chee.” He pulled Richie’s head forward by the back of his hair, resting their foreheads together. “I _love_ you.”

“You too,” Richie said, meeting Eddie’s lips in a searing kiss. “Baby, _baby_.”

“Yeah,” Eddie murmured, his eyes half lidded. His hands made quick work of Richie’s belt and he ripped it out of the other man’s jeans, throwing it aside. “I know, Rich.” He undid the other man’s fly, and Richie grabbed Eddie’s hands quickly. 

“Just,” Richie sighed, closing his eyes. “I don’t know, Eds.”

“Richie, I’m really fine--“

“No! No, no, it’s…it’s me. I’m not…”Richie moved Eddie’s hand to the front of his pants. They both frowned. “I’ve got _nothing_ going on, babe.”

“Oh,” Eddie said.

“It’s been a shitty two days, and I’m exhausted, you know, and I was so worried about you, I know you hate it, but I’m _still_ worried--“

“Rich, it’s okay--“

“I can blow you, you know, or give you--“

“No,” Eddie said firmly. “No, just…just lay with me.” He pulled Richie back by their joined hands, guiding him down onto the bed. “Like this. This is fine.”

Richie took off his glasses and leaned over to set them aside. He turned back to Eddie, blinking. “Did you set my contacts out for me?”

“Yeah, when I got up this morning.”

“Thank you,” Richie said. He laid down at Eddie’s front, kissing him gently. “Hey, what’s this?” He ran a long finger down Eddie’s scalp, just above his stitches. “Some kind of scar?”

“Yeah, from Bill’s tenth birthday? He clocked me in the head with the piñata bat when I bent over to pick up some candy?”

“Yes,” Richie gasped. “Oh my God, your mother wouldn’t let you see Bill for two months. I remember!”

“Mmhm, I only needed four stitches, but still.”

“That side of your head sure can take a lot of damage, huh,” Richie smiled, rubbing the side of Eddie’s neck. “Maybe that’s why your mom was so harsh that one summer? When I was thirteen.”

“Yeah, the year I broke my arm,” Eddie said. He wrinkled his nose. “That’s all black to me, though, I think I casually repressed it.”

“Me too,” Richie said. “Except the way you screamed when I reset…it…” Richie paused, his expression flickering. His brows furrowed and Eddie frowned. 

“Rich?” He asked, running his fingers lightly under Richie’s collarbone.

“Yeah, sorry,” Richie said absently. “I just. I just remembered something that couldn’t be real, that’s all.”

“As unreal as you resetting my arm?” Eddie said. He leaned in, pressing his nose to Richie’s. “Highly doubtful.”

“Right?” Richie dipped his head and kissed Eddie, running his hands over the smaller man’s back. Eddie arched up and kissed Richie back, parting his lips for the other man’s curious tongue. 

“Okay, so here’s how this is gonna go down,” Eddie murmured, parting with a final, soft kiss. “I’m going to go apologize to Bill, Mike, and Stan for good measure. Because I was acting like a dick.”

“Believable.”

“Shut up,” Eddie grinned, nipping Richie’s bottom lip. “And we’re going to go out and spend today in the livingroom, with our friends.”

Richie nodded. “Sounds like a plan, little man. Come here,” He tugged Eddie back in and kissed him. “When you smile at me like that, it helps,” Richie mumbled. He rolled on top of Eddie, gripping the smaller man’s hips. “That sweet face gives me something to work with,” he trailed his lips down Eddie’s neck, kissing his warm skin with heated slowness. 

Eddie sighed, letting his eyes drift closed. “Richie, you don’t always have to perform at the drop of a hat.” Richie paused over him and nodded, slowly. He sat up and Eddie went with him, kissing over his freckled cheeks. “I don’t love you based and predicated on how often your dick gets hard,” Eddie said softly. “I love you for you.” 

The smiled that overtook Richie was beatific. “Best thing I’ve ever heard,” he said, pressing his forehead to Eddie’s. “Now go apologize, you little spitfuck. I can just hear the steam pouring out of Bill’s ears right now.”

Eddie nodded. He stood and walked to the door, pausing with his hand on the knob. He turned back around and looked at Richie, sheepishly. “Um. Come with me?”

“As IF I’d be anywhere else,” Richie grinned. He hopped up and held Eddie’s hand and together, they left their room, and Eddie squeezed his palm nearly tight enough to fuse their hands together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOU GUYS! Y'all make my heart smile. <3 Thank you so much for your sweet, wonderful words. 
> 
> Li'l Headcannon Time:
> 
> Mike is a vegetarian and has been for four years. His friends all support him but it's tough for him to find options at home sometimes. He's hoping to transition into full veganism over the course of his college years.
> 
> Ben would have loved to grow a beard in high school but he was afraid that he'd get picked on. He let it grow in as soon as he graduated and he loves it; it makes him feel more confident.
> 
> Richie's almost always in the mood to bone down, but when he isn't, it's impossible for him to get it up. His sex with Eddie is very intimate and vulnerable, and he can't do it if he's anxious or sad. Eddie, on the other hand, hasn't yet found the occasion that would stop him from getting freaky. 
> 
> Richie is brusque and hides a lot with humor and dick jokes, but he's far more sensitive and far more vulnerable that he lets on to anybody, including Eddie.
> 
> While Richie calls Eddie pet names on CONSTANT rotation, Eddie only has one for Richie; 'Chee. And he only calls him that occasionally, when they're absolutely alone, and Richie L O V E S it. 
> 
> Bill has a LOOK when he's set and serious about something. It's the same look that got them all to go back into the sewers after Bev. The Losers would literally follow Bill into Hell and back but for when they need a push, there's that LOOK. 
> 
> Stan chipped one of his incisors and sliced open the inside of his bottom lip, but that wasn't _really_ what freaked him out; when Dave punched him and caught his tooth, he cut his knuckle and bled on Stan's face and in his mouth. Stan wouldn't stop panicking over it. When he gets to LA, he'll take an endless barrage of STD tests that all come back totally clean. He'll also get his tooth fixed, but that's a second string priority. 
> 
>  
> 
> More is coming up soon, folks; THANK YOU again for your endless barrage of support. I adore you all and your hugs are in the mail!
> 
> xoxoxoxoxo  
> waxagent


	5. Africa

“I can’t believe it,” Eddie hissed, his eyes wide and alarmed. He shot a glare at Richie and the man grinned widely, one loose hand on the steering wheel of Ben’s car. “They’re letting you drive? Are they out of their goddamn minds?”

“Hey, Benverly,” Richie asked the two lovebirds in the back seat. Ben and Bev looked up at him, Ben wincing at Richie’s bastardization of their names. “Eddie wants to know if you’re out of your minds.”

“Richie is more than capable of driving, Eddie,” Ben said, closing his eyes. “If you feel uncomfortable, wear your seatbelt.”

“You should really be wearing your seatbelt anyway,” Richie advised, clicking his own into position. 

“Yeah, see, he gives great driving advice,” Ben said, a smile twitching at the corner of his lips. “I deserve a break. Mike, Stan and Bill have been taking turns, but I’ve been doing _all_ of the driving and it really isn’t fair. Richie’s the only other person here with a driver’s license.”

“See baby, I got voluntold,” Richie smirked. He busied himself with adjusting the mirrors. “C’mon, Eds, it’ll be _great_.”

“Bev!” Eddie whined. “This is the man that wanted to pull out my stitches with a nail clipper and tweezers!”

“I mean, you’re the man that let me, so--“

“Sorry, Eddie,” Bev smiled. “I don’t know the first thing about driving. I used Portland’s public transport system.”

“It’s so easy for you to be calm,” Eddie said grimly. He clicked his seatbelt into place and pulled it tight. “Because you’ll both be fast asleep in thirty minutes and I’ll be the only one left awake when we die horribly.”

“You’re assuming that I’ll be asleep when we die?” Richie laughed. “That’s so rude, Spaghetti.”

“Shut up, Richard!”

“Ooh, a Richard,” Ben said, his eyes already closed. “He’s really mad.” 

“Angry is Eddie’s second language, I’m toooootally used to it,” Richie grinned, shifting Ben’s truck into third gear as they merged onto the thruway. He tapped the horn as they passed Mike’s truck and from behind the wheel, Bill waved at him. “In fact, some would say I’m fluent. And ‘Richard’ doesn’t innately mean “angry”; it could also mean that I’m eight inches deep and about to go the distance-- ”

“ _Richie_.”

“Eddie,” Richie cooed back. “I’ll let you control the radio, babe.”

“That’s pretty huge, coming from him,” Bev said. Her sunglasses were on and she had her head resting on Ben’s shoulder. 

A huge Cheshire grin split Richie’s face. “Wanna know what else is pretty huge and comes from me, guys?”

“No,” Eddie, Bev, and Ben said in unison. Richie pouted.

“It’s just three more hours to the beach rental,” Ben yawned. “Just let me nap in peace for three hours.” 

Eddie raked his hand back through his short hair.

“You’re adorable when you do that,” Richie said sweetly. 

“Worry over my inevitable, immediate death?”

“Sure. Really, you’re adorable when you do anything.”

Eddie blushed and rolled his eyes. They drove in reasonable silence for a half hour, and the only soundtrack to Eddie’s panic was the soft tones of Ben’s snoring and the steady tapping of Richie’s fingers on the wheel. 

“Put some music on, Eds,” Richie said softly. “I need to hear something, I’m going insane just listening to them sleeping.” Eddie grunted and switched on the radio. “No, no, no; there’s a few mixtapes I brought. Stashed ‘em in the glove compartment. Pick one out.”

Eddie opened the glove compartment and pulled out three tapes. “’Eddie Medley’, ‘Jams To Fuck To’, and ‘Good Shit’,” he read flatly. “How will I ever choose?”

“’Put in ‘Good Shit’,” Richie grinned. “’Jams to Fuck To’ has to come later, when we’re alone.”

“No, I get to pick,” Eddie slipped ‘Eddie Medley” into the tape deck. “I wanna hear what you put on the tape with my name on it.”

Modern Love by David Bowie started streaming out of the speakers and Richie whistled, nodding his head. “Hell yeah, now there’s a jam.”

“So, what’s the purpose of this tape?” Eddie said. “Because I _love_ David Bowie, and I know that you know that.”

“Stuff you like, stuff that makes me think of you,” Richie shrugged. “You know, it’s a medley.” Eddie grinned at Richie; the black haired man smiled back, slipping a hand through his curls. “What?”

“Nothing,” Eddie said, humming the song. He tapped his hands on his knees while Richie sang along quietly. When Richie shifted up, next, Eddie gently took his hand and laced their fingers together. “Just tell me if you need it back. To shift.” Richie nodded, smiling around the lyrics to the song. Both men beamed all of the way to California.

* * *

“I thought it was hot in Maine,” Stan said. He lifted a cooler onto the counter in their tiny rented kitchen and started filling it with ice. “I don’t know what hot is.”

“Get used to it, Stanny boy!” Richie wrapped his arms around Stan’s waist and yanked him backwards. Stan went with an undignified squawk. “This is your new turf!”

“Let me go, you cretin!”

“I’m not a cretin, Stanley, and you know you’re gonna miss the fuck out of me.”

Stan rolled his eyes and turned around. He wrapped one hand into Richie’s purple tank top and tugged him in. “Yeah. Maybe I will. You know what, Tozier?”

Richie raised his eyebrows. “What--“ Stan silenced Richie by kissing him, very gingerly. On the other side of the counter, Eddie and Bill watched the scene unfold in front of them, identical expressions of shock on their faces. 

“H-holy shit,” Bill whispered.

Eddie bit his bottom lip. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

Richie was blinking rapidly, his hands useless on Stan’s waist. “You act like you’ve never been kissed, Richie, lighten up,” Stan smirked and tilted his head, parting his lips, and Richie’s eyelashes fluttered before dropping closed. He pressed another kiss to Stan’s top lip, pulling him flush against his front and Stan reached behind him, grabbed a handful of ice, and shoved it down the front of Richie’s shorts. 

“Oh Jesus _FUCK_!!” Richie shrieked. He flew backwards and jammed his hands down the front of his pants, yanking out several ice cubes. “Watch the moneymaker, Stan, shit!”

“Sorry,” Stan smirked, turning back to his task. Eddie and Bill were in stitches, and Eddie was laughing so hard that he had to cover his face to suppress his giggles. “Thought you might need a cool down.”

“Oh, little Richie,” Richie moaned, looking down the front of his shorts. “If you do any permanent damage, Eddie will be pissed at you.”

“Eh,” Eddie said with a smile, shrugging. “I mean. I’ll make do.”

“ _Edward_.”

“I mean, it wouldn’t be the end of the world,” he chuckled. Richie glared at Eddie and then paused, looking at his left hand, still full of dripping ice cubes. He looked back up at Eddie, who blanched suddenly under his attention. “No. Nonononono. NO, Richie. NO.”

“Yes, Richie, yes,” Stan hummed. “Get the fuck out of my hair.” He grinned over at Bill, who was still staring at Stan with a smile on his lips, his eyes hungry. 

“I’m coming back for you, Stan,” Richie promised darkly. Like lightening, he sprinted towards the counter, vaulting over the granite surface. Eddie shrieked and ran, stumbling, shoving past Beverly and Ben and Mike, flying into the backyard.

“Don’t run us late for the beach!” Stan yelled after him, as unconcerned about Richie’s threatened revenge as he’d ever been about anything else. Bill laughed again, shaking his head.

* * *

The crash and roar of the waves on the infinite, sandy shore was among the greatest music that Eddie had ever heard. He was on his back on a towel on the sand, with sunglasses on and his eyes closed. The sun beat against his front and he _loved_ it; his mother had never let him lay out like this, with his back borne and bare against a towel on the ground, his toes curled in the warm grains of the sand, and yet here he was. He languished with a smile on his lips, and everything felt _right_. 

“You’ve been roasting like that for twenty minutes, Ed,” Beverly murmured. She mirrored him at his side, and they held hands, loosely. “Roll over and get your back.”

“I’m way too comfortable to move,” Eddie sighed. “This is actually heaven. Why did we pick Seattle? It’s rainy and cold and cloudy. Malibu. This is where it’s at.”

Beverly giggled. “You picked Seattle for my best friend; that six-foot-two tall drink of water that you love so much.”

“Oh, yeah, that guy,” Eddie grinned, lazily opening one eye. “Forgot about him.”

“I don’t know how you could. He makes it really tough to ignore him for a single second,” Bev hummed. In the distance, even in the pervasive peace of the beach, they could hear their friends splashing and shrieking, Richie’s laughter chief among the sounds. “He’s always at an eleven out of ten.”

“In attitude,” Eddie agreed. “In looks, in personality.”

“Ohmigosh, you’re too fucking cute,” Beverly squeezed Eddie’s hand. “Smitten as all hell.”

“Me, smitten? What about you and Ben? _That’s_ smitten.”

“Oh, stop.”

“Seriously, he almost passed out when he rubbed sunscreen on your shoulders,” Eddie rolled over. He released Beverly’s hand to maneuver himself, and replaced it with his other palm once he had settled onto his belly. “You guys are actually perfect. You always have been.”

Beverly beamed, her cheeks pink underneath her oversized sunglasses. “I love him, you know? I just…I love him.”

“I know,” Eddie whispered. He gazed at Beverly, eyes soft behind his sunglasses. “And he loves you too, Bevvie.”

She rolled onto her side and their eyes met. “I know,” she said. “I’ve never been so sure of anything before. My life, things…things have been tough. But he’s always _there_ , just…being himself. And it’s all I need.”

“How often are you guys gonna see each other?” Eddie asked, playing with Bev’s fingers. Her chipped nailpolish still matched Richie’s and she ghosted her fingers over Eddie's healing knuckles tenderly. 

“We have a long weekend planned for every month, phone calls already scheduled for every other night,” Bev said. “He’ll drive half to New York and I’ll take the bus for half to Chicago. We’re not gonna let the distance change us.”

“I know you won’t,” Eddie said. “We should all make plans, too. To spend time together, see each other. So we don’t--

_forget_

\--lose touch,” he finished, feeling odd. Beverly hummed in agreement. “I’m…I’m gonna go cool down,” Eddie said, standing up. “I’m no match for the Cali heat”

“Reapply your sunscreen when you get out!” Bev said.

“Okay, mom!” Eddie laughed, walking down the beach towards the ocean. “Oh, Jesus. _Guys_. You really have to play chicken in every body of water?” He stepped into the tide, wincing as he walked over a solid strip of broken shells. He walked to Stan, who was standing back, and they shared an eye roll; Richie was on Ben’s shoulders, his curls damp and slicked back, his hands locked with Bill’s. Bill was on Mike’s shoulders, and their faces were set in grim determination. “The ocean isn’t the quarry, assholes, it has a _current_. You could drown.”

“Control your buzzkill, Richie,” Richie said, clutching Bill’s hands.

“Wait,” Bill blinked, pausing. “Did you just…talk to yourself?”

“Well,” Richie said. “ _Yeah_.” He wrenched his wrists and gave Bill a mighty shove; the auburn haired teen shrieked, legs akimbo, and fell off of Mike’s shoulders into the crashing waves behind him. “FUCK YEAH. Suck it, Denbranlon!” He reached down and slapped Ben a triumphant high five.

“Den…Denbranlon?” Eddie asked. 

Stan sighed and shrugged. “Denbrough and Hanlon. Their team name.”

“What?”

“Richie made it up. He and Ben are Tozcom.”

“That’s,” Eddie put his hand over his mouth, trying and failing to conceal his laughter. “That’s so stupid.” Stan looked at him, and they both burst into peals of laughter. 

“You laughing at me?” Eddie looked up, tears in his eyes, to see Richie sloshing towards him. He was beaming, his cheeks and shoulders flushed with the sun. His green and pink swim trunks rode low on his hips. “Did you see me win, baby?” He picked Eddie up and twirled him. Eddie wrapped his arms around Richie’s warm shoulders and kissed him sweetly. 

“I did, Rich. Good job, distracting him and winning through a feat of terrible dishonesty.”

“Thank you babe!” Richie grinned. “You taste like kiwi,” he kissed Eddie again, flicking his tongue against the smaller man’s bottom lip. “You snacking with Bev?”

“We were, a few minutes ago,” Eddie murmured, looking up at Richie over the top of his shades. “You’re sexy in the ocean.”

“Me- _ow_ ,” Richie grinned. He felt Eddie’s ass through his wet trunks. “You should know, though, that everything I learned about being hot while wet, I learned from your mom.”

“ _Ugh_. Christ. You’ve gotta ruin it. Put me down.”

“No way! Come on,” Richie carried Eddie out deeper, smiling as Eddie latched against his front warily. “Let’s explore nature’s greatest toilet together.”

“What the fuck, Richie?! Don’t say it like that!”

“You should know that I pissed in here like forty minutes ago.”

“ _RICHIE_!”

“Honesty is key, baby!”

Eddie kicked up and out, pushing off against Richie’s stomach. Richie stumbled back with a grunt and watched Eddie swim back to shore, a goofy grin on his face. “You’re so flexible!” He yelled after Eddie. “I really love it!”

“Fuck off, Rich,” Eddie scowled. He stood and tugged up his swimsuit, glaring balefully. Richie just grinned, slowly advancing. “I am SERIOUS. Fuck off!” Richie’s grin widened. He started chasing Eddie down, sloshing through the foam of the tide and over the broken shells. “No! NO,” Eddie shrieked. He hit firm sand and he was off like a shot, running parallel to the tide line. He didn’t make it far before he felt Richie’s arms snag around his waist and pull him back. They were both breathless with laughter. 

“Cute little captive!” Richie sand. He spun Eddie in a huge arc and plopped him on the sand, beaming. “You can’t outrun these legs, baby, not by a long shot.” He wiggled his fingers and crouched over Eddie, running them up and under the sides of his hips and his ribcage. 

“Ahh!” Eddie wailed, laughing hysterically. “Richie, get off, get OFF!”

“Oh, I will, baby, don’t worry, I will,” Richie cooed, tickling his boyfriend mercilessly. “I’ll make sure you do too, how about that?” He pulled his fingers away, flexing them. Eddie panted on the wet sand, giggling, and Richie cupped his cheek. “Yowza. Just look at this kid. Utterly perfect.”

“Shut up,” Eddie smiled. “I’m older than you.” He braced his hands against the ground and leaned up, letting Richie guide him into a soft kiss. He parted his lips and Richie’s tongue was in his mouth, and his large hands were steering Eddie back onto the wet sand, the break of the waves lapping against his toes while they kissed. 

“Wow,” Richie murmured against Eddie’s lips. “I never even dreamed this,” he ran a hand over Eddie’s stomach and throat, kissing him again. “I bet we look like a movie poster.” 

“Maybe you,” Eddie smiled, giggling when Richie bit his bottom lip playfully. “You look like a male model.”

Richie beamed at him, his cheeks flushed. “Well, yeah, I mean- likewise.” He dipped his head in again and kissed Eddie passionately, using his free hand to reach down and tilt Eddie’s hips towards his own. 

“You’re getting so worked up,” Eddie murmured, a playful smile on his lips. “For somebody who comments so often about how easily _I_ get worked up, that is.”

“We’re learning so much about each other on this roadtrip, doncha just love it?” Richie pressed a smooch to the corner of Eddie’s mouth and then one to his top lip, tracing his cupid’s bow with the tip of his tongue.

“Mmh, Richie?”

“Yeah?” Richie said, rubbing their noses together. 

Eddie brought up a handful of wet mud and slapped it all over Richie’s back. “Nothin’, babe.”

“Aughgh,” Richie shivered. “That’s _so_ hot.”

“UGH,” Eddie ripped his hands away from Richie’s back and scrabbled out from underneath him. “You’re fucking nasty, Rich.” 

“You like it a little nasty, baby,” Richie grinned, crawling towards Eddie. “Come and get your dirty, dirty boy.”

“Nononono,” Eddie hopped to his feet and ran back towards the Losers’ setup. “HELP.” Bev looked up wildly, shoving her shades up. When she saw an exceptionally dirty Richie chasing Eddie, she rolled her eyes and laid back down. 

They stayed at the beach until long past dusk. Bev and Eddie devoured the remainder of the fruit that they’d bought, hot and hungry, and Ben set up a portable grill in the sand beside their corner of the beach. 

“Alright, Bill and Eddie, I’ll need some extra hands. You in?” They nodded and Ben smiled, opening their cooler. “Okay, so, one burger apiece,” Ben pointed at Bev, and then at Stan. “Two burgers,” Bill. “A hotdog,” Eddie. “Veggie burger,” Mike smiled. “Three burgers and a hotdog. Jesus, Richie, really?”

“I’m a growing lad, I’ll have you know,” Richie mumbled around the cigarette in his mouth. “You have to feed me.”

“Not after midnight,” Stan said, laying out beside Richie. Richie had one arm around Bev and one around Stan, and the three of them were practically dozing off, covered in sand. Bev had one hand on Richie’s chest and Stan’s face was pressed against his neck, out of the sun. 

“How’s your lip?” Mike said softly to Stan, sitting on his other side. He stroked a hand up Stan’s side, slow and gentle, and Stan laced their finger together.

“Better, so much better since I took the stitches taken out.” 

“Mike wants to know if you’ll go down on him tonight,” Richie said, grinning.

“And, that’s it,” Stan sat up, grunting, and moved away from Richie to sit on Mike’s lap. “That’s as far as you get, Richie.”

“To be fair,” Mike said, beaming at his boyfriend. They kissed, and Mike continued. “You guys lasted almost fifteen minutes, full physical contact, and nobody threatened to murder anybody else. I think there’s cause for celebration there.”

Richie blinked and sat up; Beverly moved fluidly onto his lap and he stroked her hair. “Hey. Yeah,” she said. “Good job, Richie.”

“Thank you!” Richie exclaimed. “It’s about time that somebody noticed my efforts.”

“I really feel like it shouldn’t be an effort to just be a normal human, you know,” Stan said.

“Sweetheart,” Mike murmured. Stan looked up at him, eyes softening. “Just let him have it. Okay?” Stan nodded, and Mike tilted his chin up with a thumb. They kissed tenderly, eyes closed, lips parted.

“That’s hot,” Richie said. Stan broke the kiss and flipped Richie off, a glare in his hazel eyes and a blush on his cheeks. 

“Richie, leave them alone,” Eddie said. He had two plates in each hand and he grimaced, handing out the food to each of his friends. “You’re gonna have to trust Ben with the veracity of your orders because I couldn’t remember jack shit.”

“Ben knows everybody’s order. Thanks, Eddie,” Bev smiled, accepting her meal. 

Richie blinked. “Baby, where’s mine?” 

“Get your own, Rich, it weighs like twenty pounds,” Eddie sat on their blanket beside Mike, snuggling up to the other man. Mike wrapped an arm around Eddie and kissed his head. 

“Eddie! The betrayal!” Richie pouted and squeezed Beverly. “Bev, babe, can I have a bite of your burger?” 

“What? No.”

“Please?”

“Richie, yours is done,” Bill said, laughing. He indicated a heaping plate beside the grill. 

Richie pouted. “Billy, bring it to me, I got a lap full of Bev.” Bev chewed happily, smiling and pressed her face against Richie’s shoulder. 

“Bill, do NOT give him that plate,” Stan said, pointing. “Don’t enable him!”

“Bill!”

“Bill, I swear.” 

Mike and Eddie rolled their eyes, and Mike offered Eddie a bite of his veggie burger. Eddie nodded, taking a taste. “Really good,” he smiled. “Thanks, Mikey.”

“Biiiiiiill,” Richie flopped onto his back. “I’m dying! Bill!”

“Jesus Christ, Rich, here,” Bill laughed. He set Richie’s plate onto his chest with both hands. “S-Sorry, Stan.”

“You’ll make it up to me later,” Stan said smoothly, one eyebrow raised. Bill flushed and smiled, scratching the back of his head.

“Maybe that’s what I was going for,” he said. He walked over with his plate and sat on Mike’s unoccupied side, kissing Mike’s cheek and Stan’s forehead.

“Sorry, Richie,” Ben said, wiping his mouth. He lifted Beverly off of Richie’s lap and sat down, pulling her against him. “Gotta steal my girl.”

“What’d you do, eat at the grill?” Richie sat up, replacing Bev with his obscene pile of food. 

“Maybe I did,” Ben smiled, nuzzling Bev’s hair. She held out her burger and he shook his head. “Thanks anyway, Bev. I’m full.”

“Trying to get a leg up on me, I get it,” Richie took a huge bite of his burger. “Mmfu hnk yuu cn--“

“Richie,” Eddie said, rolling his eyes. “You’re gonna choke. Chew and swallow, first.”

Richie squinted at Eddie, chewed, and swallowed. He held up the bunless hotdog from his plate between two fingers, wiggling it. “Anybody want to watch me deepthroat this wiener?”

“NO,” everybody said, in perfect unison. Richie looked between them, shrugged, and took a bite of the hotdog.

“Spoil sports,” he mumbled around his mouthful. 

By the time they migrated back to their rental, a tiny, lopsided cabana (“The best you can get for $300 a night in Cali!” Richie had assured them while everybody grumbled and forked over their shares), the sky royal blue, shot through with pink and orange clouds; the vestiges of the most beautiful sunset that Eddie had ever seen. They showered in turns and built a campfire in the backyard, a small one, just enough space around it for the seven of them to sit close. 

A strange, sad peace had overtaken them. Eddie could see snatches of it clearly; Bev and Ben wouldn’t release each other’s hands. Stan stayed firmly in between Bill and Mike, and they couldn’t stop touching one another. Eddie could feel the finality underneath his ribs in echoing waves of tension; Stan would be the first to leave their group. Snappy, shy, sometimes bitchy Stan would be the first to separate off and leave them, would be the first, maybe, to make new friends outside of their circle, to have a head start and a jump on a new life.

“I hate this,” Richie whispered down into Eddie’s ear. “It feels like somebody died.” Eddie nodded, his chest heavy. Richie pulled Eddie back into his lap and kissed his cheek, softly, trailing affection up and down his jaw. 

Eddie held Richie’s arms against his chest, burrowing back. “It sucks. It just sucks.”

Richie sucked his teeth and nodded, absently. He was quiet before he lifted Eddie up; he carried the smaller man over to Mike, Bill, and Stan and dumped him in Stan’s lap.

“Ow, Richie, what the hell?” Eddie grumbled. Stan rolled his eyes and helped Eddie sit up, but left his arms wrapped loosely around the smaller man’s waist. 

“Two seconds!” Richie ran back into the rental, his damp curls flopping limply. “Just give me two seconds!” 

“Oh lord,” Stan groaned. 

Eddie grimaced. “Sorry. I’m fucking up your mojo,” He made to get up off of Stan’s lap but Mike hugged him from behind, sudden and tight. Eddie paused before melting into it, turning around to hug Mike back, just as firmly. 

“Alright, losers,” Richie shouted, kicking the back door to the cabana open with one bare foot. His arms were full of bottles; beer, vodka, tequila, water. Clamped tightly in one hand was the handle of Beverly’s ancient, well-loved boom box.

“Did you go through my luggage to get that?” Bev asked, frowning. 

“So what if I did?” Richie started passing around bottles. “Here you go, here, and yep, Haystack, _you_ get the tequila, lucky lucky.” 

“Rich,” Stan deadpanned. “Nobody’s in the mood.”

“Ask Eddie,” Richie said pointedly. He lifted the boombox and fiddled with it, grinning. “He’ll tell you that I’m an _expert_ at putting people in the mood.” Eddie shook his head. 

“Richie,” Ben said gently. “Maybe we should have a toned down sort of night. The day after tomorrow--“

“NOPE.” Richie said. Bev’s boombox started blasting out music. He smiled, and set it on the ground. “Nope, nope, nope; this isn’t a fucking _funeral_. It’s a celebration! Come on.” He whirled around and pointed at Stan, who blanched instantly and tried to scoot back. “For _you_. Congrats. Ziegler is lucky to have you. We’re gonna miss you.” He raised the bottle of vodka in his hand and took a huge gulp, plain-faced as he swallowed it back. “Ahh. BUT. We’ll see each other again, right? So it’s not every day, they have three way calling now! The future is endless, I’m telling you guys; seven way calling is just around the block!” Stan snorted, but sipped from the beer that Richie pressed into his hands, a smile curving the edge of his lips.

“YOU idiots,” Richie said, turning to Ben and Beverly. “Invite me to your wedding. Wait, no, don’t invite me,” he got down on his knees and grabbed Beverly’s shoulders, staring into her eyes. “If I am not the maid of honor in your fucking wedding, I’m telling you right now that I will burn that whole bitch down.” Bev laughed and Richie leaned forward and kissed her, tenderly, and she kissed him back through her smile. “Love you, Bevvie. You’re my knight in shining armor.”

Beverly laughed. “Love you too, Rich, you big fucking goofball.”

“Ben,” Richie turned to Ben, who was smiling over the rim of his tequila bottle. “Let me tell you; lock this girl down.”

“Sexist!” Eddie piped up from across the circle.

Richie waved a hand. “Let her lock you down, fuck, whatever. You guys were just made for each other, you two talented motherfuckers. Expect a nightly call from me because Imma need your help on _every_ college essay,” Ben smiled bashfully. “But do not, I repeat, do NOT get our Bev pregnant yet. You’re young! You need some tips on safe sex? How not to make a baby? Stick to the back do--“

“Beep beep, Richie,” Beverly said, beaming, her arms wrapped around Richie’s neck. Ben chuckled, and punched Richie in the arm. His face was flushed a deep red, but his clear blue eyes were elated. 

“Ow,” Richie said brightly. “Here, sooth your mighty man,” Beverly smacked another kiss against Richie’s forehead and left his lap to sit beside Ben. Richie rolled around and crawled over to the other four members of their group, grinning salaciously.

“Let me get you out of the way, sugar,” he lifted Eddie and laid him down on the ground, crawling over him and kissing him deeply to the chorus of groans from their friends. “Love you,” Richie whispered. “Love you so much, sweetheart, seriously, I’d put a baby in you if you ever asked me to. Or, hell, I’d carry _your_ baby, I could be into that--”

Eddie covered his red face with both hands and shoved Richie away, laughing and shaking his head. Richie grinned and assumed Eddie’s former spot in Stan’s lap; Stan’s face scrunched up and he looked at Richie warily. 

“Michael,” Richie said. He grabbed the collar of Mike’s shirt and yanked him in close, until they were nose to nose. “You’re the kindest, sweetest, most noble soul I’ve ever met,” he said seriously. “You love animals, and plants, and people more than Stanley has the capacity to love most anything.”

Stan grunted and rolled his eyes. “I mean,” he shot Bill a look. “He isn’t _wrong_.”

“Don’t let it hurt you,” Richie said, sitting up. He cupped Mike’s face; Mike was staring back at him, wide eyed, lips parted. “We’ll get you out of Derry. If it takes one month, one year, five years, ten, we _will_. Okay--” Richie squeaked. Mike had seized him in a tight, unyielding hug. Richie snapped his arms around the bigger man and they held each other for what seemed like hours, everybody silent, their faces hidden against each other. 

Mike patted Richie’s shoulders and released him, flushed, looking after him still with an expression of sweet awe. Richie grinned widely, his crooked canines on display and turned around in Stan’s lap to face Bill.

“You don’t have to give me any kind of s-speech,” Bill said softly. “What you say for them is enough for me,” he leaned up, his hands on Richie’s thighs, and kissed him softly. Richie closed his eyes and kissed Bill back tenderly, pulling back with a soft smirk. 

“If you think you can distract me with a little physical loving, well, you’re correct,” Richie hummed, licking his bottom lip. Bill grinned at him, leaning forward to whisper something private in Richie ear. Richie laughed abruptly, his eyes sliding over to Eddie. “Well,” he chuckled, “You don’t exactly need to know the answer to _that_ question, Billy boy.” Bill laughed, still pink, and Richie shifted around to face Stan. “Stan. Stan, my boy. Stanley the Manly--“

“Your bony ass is digging into my thighs,” Stan grumbled. “What?” 

“I love you,” Richie said softly. He grabbed both of Stan’s hands in his own and squeezed them. “You’re my best friend. I’ve known you longer than anybody else here, and I’ll always have your back. If you need a place to stay, come to me. Somebody to listen to you? I’m your guy. Somebody to beat wholesale ass? I’ll have Eddie shipped to you on the first plane out of Seattle.” Stan laughed, rolling his eyes. “We’re leaving you here, tomorrow, but we aren’t gone. You have me, and all of us, and you are never going to be alone. Okay?” Stan looked at Richie, just searching, for a long time. He reached out and buried his face against Richie’s neck, winding his arms around the other man in a tight hug, his shoulders shaking. Everybody watched as Richie hugged Stan, rubbing his back, kissing his shoulder. “We’ve got you Stanny,” Richie whispered. “No getting out now.”

“You’re an idiot,” Stan said roughly. He pulled back from Richie and wiped his eyes furiously. “I _hate_ you.” He stared at Richie for a long moment before a smile curled over his lips. They laughed and Stan pulled Richie in in one fluid motion and kissed his cheek, very softly. Richie turned his head and their noses brushed. 

“Alright, enough of you,” Stan said. He shoved Richie out of his lap and Bill crawled onto his legs. They both pulled Mike close, and they held each other, all three of them, in a warm silence. 

Richie rolled over and grinned at Eddie. “Richie do good?” he whispered slyly, eyes twinkling in the firelight.

Eddie nodded, his throat tight, and pulled Richie closer. “ _Very_ good,” he said quietly, grazing their lips together. “You’re a wonderful man.”

“Nah, shaddup,” Richie smiled against Eddie’s lips, humming along with the radio. “I love this song. Wanna dance?” 

“You know that I don’t,” Eddie said. 

“Pfft, we all know that Eddie doesn’t dance!” Mike laughed. 

“Turn it up, th-this song’s a classic,” Bill said and Beverly obliged, raising the volume on her little boombox. 

Richie rolled his eyes with a smile and pulled Eddie close. “I guess we don’t have to. Maybe we’ll do a different dance later, something horizontal, something you don’t have to wear pants for--“

“Richie!”

“ _It’s gonna take a lot to take me awaaaaay from you_!” Richie sang suddenly, springing up onto his knees. “ _There’s nothing that a hundred men or more cannot dooooooo_!”

“You’re a fiend!” Eddie laughed, pulling Richie against him tenderly.

“ _Your_ fiend,” Richie grinned, swaying to Toto’s ‘Africa’ as it blasted out of Bev’s radio. “And don’t you forget it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYS! That brings part four to a conclusion <3 Keep an eye out for PART FIVE sometime within the next week. We’re at the official halfway mark of the series!
> 
> I AM IN A GLASS CAGE OF EMOTION from the sweet things you all say!!! THANK YOU. <3 I love chatting with all of you so please, keep letting me know what yawl think! I am your humble fiction slave!
> 
> As always,  
> xoxoxoxo  
> waxagent

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome back friends! Part four's a little longer than the others, so bear with me to get this gravy train rolling. 
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me. Drop me a line and let me know what you think!!!
> 
> xoxoxoxoxo  
> waxagent


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